diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

right where you left me

part: 1 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.6k c/w: language a/n: heyyyy everyone! my anons have been begging for another series like anyone else, so here's one i've been thinking about for a second and finally put to paper. i hope you like this just as much as 'anyone else'. btw, if you guys want to send in long ass asks live reacting to my writing (whoever @imaginespazzi 's anon is that does this, i LOVE it) it's such a great way to know what you do and don't like about my writing, and i'd so appreciate it. love you guys!

I blink as the sun hits my eyes, almost blinding me. I stretch at my front door, loosening my muscles that are still a little tight from sleep. I squint against the blaring sunlight, then push my AirPods in and start off down my street. It’s this quaint little neighborhood in Virginia, a not-too-far cry from my home state of Minnesota. 

My run is peaceful, Kendrick Lamar blaring in my ears, the music a smooth symphony of artful lyrics backed by a spurring beat. I take down about three miles, reaching what looks to be an old basketball court before slowing to a jog, then a halt. I pant, placing my hands on my hips and allowing my chest to heave as I recover from the run. My sports bra and shorts are soaked with sweat, but the summer air is refreshing.

I tip my head back, soaking in the sun, when I hear a voice behind me. “Hey, you shooting or…” I whip my head around, the voice impossibly and frighteningly familiar. 

No fucking way.

“Maya.”

“Paige,” I breathe. 

She hesitates, a ball braced at her side, and it looks so natural, just as it always has. She’s wearing a white tee shirt and dark shorts, with blue, red, and white shoes on her feet. Her hair is parted down the middle, slung into a bun at the base of her neck. My breath catches when my eyes meet her stark, blue ones - pools of crystal that glimmer in the summer sun. Her limbs are long and she’s tan, her lips stuck in that damned half-smirk that used to drive me crazy. It fades from her face a little as she takes me in, and I cross my arms over my stomach self-consciously.

“What are you… what are you doing here?” I swallow hard as I stutter over my words.

She coughs awkwardly, tossing the ball back and forth between her hands. “My friend, Azzi - don’t know if you remember her, um… She lives here. In this neighborhood. But we also moved to Virginia when we- when I left for school.”

I remember Azzi. She was one of Paige’s basketball friends, a tall, pretty girl with dark hair and a kind smile. Paige clears her throat. “You… uh, what about you?” I blink. “Oh, um. Yeah, same, actually, my family moved here. Also.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

We’re quiet for a few more minutes. It’s my turn to clear my throat awkwardly.

“Still dancing?” She asks. 

I laugh nervously. “Can’t seem to stop. Still hooping?”

She smiles a little more at that. “Can’t seem to stop,” she echoes back to me. Paige hesitates for a moment.

“You look good,” she admits after a few moments.

My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! Thanks, um… you do, too. Look good, I mean. You look great!”

She raises an eyebrow at my rambling. “Great?” She muses.

I scoff. “No, good. You look good.”

“No, I got it the first time.” Her smirk is widening, her tone teasing.

“Good.”

“Not great?” She’s pushing my buttons now.

“Paige, stop,” I blurt out.

It hangs over us - my usage of her name, the undeniable tension that lingers in the air, nearly suffocating. 

She looks down at the ground, kicking at it. “Sorry,” she mumbles. 

I sigh. “No, you’re fine. I should- I should go.”

“Maya, don’t do that. Look, I’m sorry-”

“No, I should get home. It was good to see you.” 

Stubbornly, I plug my headphones in, pretending not to hear her voice calling out my name, the sound of it echoing behind me, praying I can drown out the past if I just turn my music up loud enough.

************

“You’re doing it wrong. Put your foot down on the off beat.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Paige demands, and I bite back a grin.

Patiently, I re-explain the 8 count to her. “It’s just a stupid TikTok. Bro, you’re so extra,” she whines. I hold my hands up. “You’re the one who said you wanted to learn it for real. Like, dancer-style.” 

“I never said that.”

“I think those were actually your exact words. Okay, look-”

Paige groans. “Can we take a break?” She begs, grabbing her phone and tossing it onto her bed. She collapses onto it right after, shrugging her shirt off before falling back onto the pillows. I roll my eyes, grabbing my own phone. I sigh, looking at my notifications. Paige’s eyes flicker to mine. “What? Nicky again?” I shake my head. “It’s just… I need to break up with her.” Paige tries and fails to stifle a grin. “You think she knows?” She asks. There’s a hint of smugness to her tone that I don’t like. 

I narrow my eyes as she eases off the bed and approaches me, slinging her arms around my waist. “Knows what?” I ask. Paige smirks. “You know what,” she smiles, dipping her head to mine. I shove at her chest, but she pulls me closer. “Knows what we’re really doing?” Paige teases. “Shut up, Paige,” I chide, but she moves in, anyway, slotting her lips against mine in a slow, meaningful kiss.

Her lips work against mine skillfully, and though I’ve only kissed Paige a few times by now, melting into her is only instinct. “Did you eat my Nerds?” She demands, pulling away and licking her lips. I crinkle my nose at her. “Maybe?” She shakes her head at me, mischief glinting in her eyes, before she hoists me up, tossing me onto the bed. “You’re gonna pay for that,” she warns playfully, before tackling me, fingers poking into my sides and eliciting raucous laughter from the both of us. “Okay, okay! I’ll buy you more, stop! Stop!” I shriek. She collapses on top of me, ignoring the way I push at her shoulders. 

Paige stares down at me, then leans down to connect our lips again, mouth dancing languidly with mine. I sigh, pushing a hand into her hair and responding eagerly, winding my leg between hers. “Tell her,” she urges, pecking me once. I sigh. “I know. I feel awful about it.” She pushes her body slightly up and nudges my nose with hers. “Come on. She’s not stupid.” She tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “We’re… obvious. You know?” I raise my eyebrow. “If you mean that everyone can tell how bad you want me, then yeah,” I tell her. She sucks her teeth, hitting me on the shoulder. “Tch. You know what I mean. We… were gonna happen.”

I grin at her, though I don’t mean to. “You seem pretty confident about that,” I muse. She grins back at me, her mouth hovering over mine. “Good. I am.”

***************

My run home is more of a sprint, and I’m absolutely spent when I shove through my front door. “Maya!” My mom calls. “Come help with the groceries!” I oblige, unlacing my shoes and skidding into the kitchen. My mom’s head is stuck in the fridge, trying to make room for all the new produce she’s just bought, so I make myself busy storing away the pantry foods.

“You will not believe who I ran into at the store!” My mom exclaims, poking her head out from behind the fridge door. She’s still in her scrubs, probably just having finished off a shift at work. I raise an eyebrow. “Michelle Obama?” I ask. She frowns at me. “You’re not funny.” I shrug. “I beg to differ.” 

My mom is definitely more of my best friend than my actual mom. I mean, she works so much, and I’ve had to practically raise my brother. Plus, with my dad out of the picture since… forever, she’s really all I had.

“Anyway,” she says pointedly, dusting off her hands. “I was at the store, and I ran into Bob Bueckers! Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t seen the Bueckers’ in years, and you and Paige were so close…” My mom continues speaking, I’m sure, but there’s a sudden muffled tone to it, like there’s water in my ears. 

It’s just the mention of her name. I hadn’t heard it in years, had tried my best not to even think of her because I knew it would hurt. And seeing her today…

It isn’t fair. She does look great - better, somehow. Not the tall, lanky teenager I was used to. She’s a whole woman, now - muscled and lean, much more sure of herself. And yet… so much is the same - that damned perpetual half smile on her face, the way she tilts her head, the way her eyes glint. I can’t help but wonder if other things are the same, as well.

If her hands are as warm as they always used to be.

If she still picks her face when she’s nervous.

Fuck. Stop it.

“Did you hear what I said, sweetie?”

I shake my head out of my reverie, turning back to my mom. “Uh, no?”

“I invited them over for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”

I splutter, processing what she’s just said. “I’m sorry. You what?”

*************************************

“Uh… here.”

I gingerly take the loaf of banana bread from Paige. I don’t meet her eyes as I let her, her brother, her dad, and her stepmom into the house. “Thanks,” I mumble. Drew stares up at me. “You look different,” he says matter of factly. I smile a little at him. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I tease. He narrows his eyes at me. “I’ll let you know,” he informs me, then skips past me. My little brother, Matthew, catches sight of him, and the two of them run off eagerly to play together.

My heart squeezes a bit at this. I hadn’t realized that Paige and I… growing apart, I suppose one could call it, would mean that our brothers would lose a friendship, too. “He’s, uh… He’s tall, now,” she tries, hesitantly. I glance up at her from the side of my eye, walking to place the dessert on the dining table. She follows me. I hate that she does. I hate that she still smells like herself, that the way she looms over me feels oh-so-familiar.

I toy with the sleeve of my top nervously. “Is that- is that mine?” Paige blurts out suddenly. I glance down at my navy blue top, and my eyes widen. She’s right. It is her shirt, and I hadn’t even realized. It’s a bit big on me, and I’d found it in a box after we’d moved to the new house. “Oh. I guess so, do you want it back? I can go change?” I yammer, and she shakes her head frantically. “No! You don’t have to- That’s not what I meant, you-” She clears her throat.

“It looks nice on you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I chance a glance at my feet, my hands, anywhere but her. She sighs. “Well, this is fucking awkward,” she mutters. I laugh hollowly. “Whose fault is that, hm?” I say, and I can’t keep the acrid taste of resentment out of my voice. I don’t miss the way her eyes flit to mine, mouth twisting with an unspoken response. “Maya-” she starts. “We should go help,” I interrupt, turning on my heel and walking quickly to the kitchen. 

As though it couldn’t get any more awkward, Paige ends up right across from me at dinner. Our parents chatter away, our little brothers in some heated discussion about basketball, and all she and I can do is pick at our food. There are onions in the stir-fry my mom made.

Paige hates onions.

I stifle a grin, despite myself. She’ll eat them, anyway, but I see her pushing them around her plate, putting it off. “Problem, Paige?” I ask sweetly. She narrows her eyes at me. “Not at all,” she shoots back. My mom abruptly stops the conversation she’s having. “Are you alright, honey? Is the food okay?” Paige nods hastily.

“Yes, Ms. Jacobs! It’s so good,” she reassures her. My mom cocks her head, sharp as ever. “Well, you’ve hardly touched it!” I bite back a laugh as Paige shovels a huge scoop into her mouth. “Really good,” she says around the food, smiling as best as she can at my mom. My mom nods, satisfied, and turns away. Paige shoots me a look, kicking me under the table.

I’m shocked. So shocked that the action is natural for her, and shocked at what I do next: kick her back. She gasps, and I guess the huge bite she’s just taken goes down the wrong pipe. She begins coughing violently, and my eyes widen. “Paige? Maya, honey, take her to the kitchen! Get her some water,” she instructs, concerned. Paige thumps her chest, holding up a hand. “All good, I swear,” she tries to say, but her coughs swallow her words.

“Okay, get up. Come on,” I sigh, walking around the table to haul her to her feet by her elbow. I drag her to the kitchen, patting her on the back. I hand her a water bottle from the fridge and she accepts it gratefully. When she looks to the ceiling, her eyes are glassy with tears. “You’re such a little shit,” I sneer. “Me?” She demands indignantly. “Yes! I didn’t even kick you that hard,” I complain.

She raises an eyebrow. “What? You want me to show you?”

“You kicked me first!” 

“You were instigating,” she hisses back.

“Spell ‘instigating’, Paige.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Find someone else to do it. That’s what college is for, isn’t it?”

We both fall silent at that. Then, realizing how close we’ve gotten, we back away.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

She sighs. “No, it’s… I deserve that.”

I bite my lip, glancing at the ceiling. “It’s fine. It’s been… what, three years?”

“Still. I should’ve-”

“Look, dude, I’m over it. I’m just giving you a hard time,” I say. Lies. I’m not over it. Not even close. 

She blinks. “Yeah, no. Of course. I’m- I’m over it, too.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

It’s so painfully awkward that I want to scream. This is someone who had seen me at my worst, who had held me sobbing when I hadn’t gotten into the school I wanted.

This is the person who sat with me when my dad died, and I had grappled with the grief of losing someone I had hardly ever known. 

This is the person who had seen all of me, who had taken my virginity, who had kissed away all my fears and made me feel loved and safe and whole - and the person who had made all of that come crashing down in one fell swoop.

And now I look at her, standing in my kitchen, far from the Minnesota homes we both grew up in. The sharp pain of ‘I don’t fucking know you anymore’ stabs at my heart, nestles into my throat, and I feel tears pricking at my eyes. 

I turn away from her and march back into the dining room.

I’m done letting her make me cry.

It’s later that night, long after Paige and her family have left, when I’m finishing up washing the dishes that I hear a knock on the door. I frown, wondering if my mom is expecting someone. Drying my hands off with a towel, I warily open the door.

It’s Paige. My breath catches.

“Hi,” she starts uneasily.

“Hey. Did you forget something?” I ask, keeping my distance.

“Huh? Oh, no. I just…” She swallows hard, looking at her feet.

She clears her throat. “Can we talk?”

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

THROW AWAY

paige b. x reader

—

playlist ;

throw away - future

selfish - PnB rock

triflin hoes - Lil Durk

Love On The Brain - Rihanna

Low Life - Future (Feat. The Weeknd)

Wicked Games - The Weeknd

Exchange - Bryson Tiller

My Collection - Future

ball w/o - 21 Savage

Who Do You Love? - YG, Drake

Petty Too - Lil Durk (feat. Future)

Solo - Future

Teenage Fever - Drake

Reminder - The Weeknd

Coming Down - The Weeknd

Might Not - Belly, The Weeknd

One Of The Girls - The Weeknd, JENNIE, Lily-Rose Depp

ALL MINE - Brent Faiyaz

Recognize - PARTYNEXTDOOR (feat. Drake)

P Power - Drake

Let Em’ Know - Bryson Tiller

On tha linë - Yeat

Blue - Beyoncé (Feat. Blue Ivy)

The Night Is Still Young - Nicki Minaj

-

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

Let The Light In: Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Words: 4k

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies to lovers (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn, mention of an injury, the girls are fighting!

It's her—actually her—, standing right in front of you, and for a brief moment you almost wonder if your mind had conjured up a hallucination to retaliate against the sheer force of your yearning. 

You've spent more time than you’ll ever admit imagining this moment, playing it out in various scenarios in your mind, but the reality has a sharpness that no rehearsal could have prepared you for. Her presence is a tangible, overwhelming, a reminder of what you had, of what you had lost.

“Hey, you good?” She repeats, her voice cutting through your racing thoughts, pulling you back down to earth. 

Blinking away the tears that are, embarrassingly, still brimming in your eyes, you take a deep breath before allowing yourself to reply. "Yeah, I'm good," the words feel hollow, a betrayal of the whirlwind of the emotion inside you. 

Paige doesn't respond; instead, she slightly rocks back and forth on her heels, her hands nervously fidgeting as an all too familiar silence envelops the two of you. Wordlessly still, she reaches for the chair in front of you and pulls it out, the both of you wincing at the loud screech it makes as it drags across the wooden floor. You don’t bother to hide the shock on your face as the blonde sits down across from you, her knees briefly brushing against yours before she swiftly tucks her legs to the side, avoiding your touch.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," her tone unusually light—almost friendly, which would be confusing if you had the ability to take note of it. The only thing you can focus on is the familiar cadence of her voice, bringing back a flood of memories, each one sharp, sweet, and painful.

“I feel like I have.”

____

“I hope we’re still doing this when we’re 80.” You say, grabbing another spoonful of her strawberry ice cream and plopping the pink desert into your bowl of cherry, mixing the two together before putting the spoon back into your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum when you confirm you’ve finally gotten the perfect mix. Paige chooses to ignore how much you’ve taken out of her bowl, knowing that when you get full in a few minutes the remainder of yours will be scraped back into hers. 

“Doing what?” 

"Ice cream Thursdays, dummy," you clarify, abandoning your spoon just in time to catch a melting drop threatening to fall from her chin onto her shirt with the pad of your thumb. Pressing your finger against your lips to lick it clean.

She watches you, gaze shifting to the table when your eyes dart up to look at her again. “When we’re 80 you’ll probably be taking pictures of your husband and grandkids playing in your garden or something all cutesy and shit, you won’t be thinking about me.”

Ignoring the confusing pang in your chest when you hear her dismissal you lightly kick her shin under the table, “Oh come on, we’ll still be best friends when we’re 80, if anything I’ll be taking pictures of the grandkids playing basketball and you’ll be trying to keep up with them in your walker.” 

This gets a chuckle out of her, “hopefully by then I’ll know better than to do anything but coach.”

You smile, pushing the now half empty dessert towards her for her to finish before leaning towards her, “okay then, I’ll be taking pictures of the grandkids with coach P.”

She digs into the remainder of your cherry strawberry mixture, bringing the spoon to her mouth before shaking her head and adding another spoonful of strawberry, “fine, but if we’re 80 and you still haven’t figured out how to get the right cherry strawberry mix, I’m canceling ice cream Thursday’s.” 

____

Her smile fades a bit, replaced by a more cautious expression as she changes the subject, her friendly façade faltering a bit as speaks. “You know, you’re still sharing your location with me.” 

"What?” 

“I wanted to find you and I realized you still share your location with me.”

"You wanted to find me?” you echo. The part of you that's been hoping for this moment at war with the part that's been dreading it.

"Yeah, I needed to see you.” You hear her sigh, debating whether to continue, “thought we could talk."

The sincerity in her tone is disarming, and despite the hurt, a part of you wants to lean into the familiarity of her presence, to the shared history you’re still desperately clinging too. 

"Talk?" 

She nods, swallowing hard. “About the pictures you took the other day…” She begins, her voice trailing off briefly as she looks away from you, her hands fidgeting slightly, “Charlie sent me copies of them.” 

“Oh, she’s not supposed to do that, you guys only get the final edits,” the words slipping out before you can think better of it. 

She looks back at you, a flicker of unease crossing her features. "I know, but I asked her too.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“I wanted to see the ones Leo told you to stop taking.” 

After a moment that stretches on for longer than you would have liked, she exhales, her shoulders sagging. “I don’t know why I reacted like that, with the first shots. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with Leo. I know how much his opinion means to you and I had been thinking that if you got me lectured by Geno I’d want an apology, so… yeah” she finishes

An un-familiar coldness washes over you as you digest her words.  “That’s what you want to apologize for?” You’re unable to keep the shock and anger from seeping into your voice. You lean back in your chair, arms crossing, subconsciously trying to protect yourself from the hurt you know she’s about to make you feel again.  

“That’s all I have to apologize for.” She retorts, keeping her voice low to avoid catching the attention of the strangers around us. 

The tension between you crackles, a palpable energy that draws an invisible wall, furthering the separation between the two of you.

"You think that's it?" Disbelief coloring your tone. "After ghosting your best friend without so much as an explanation, that's what you think you need to apologize for? A few pictures?"

She looks taken aback, perhaps not expecting your reaction to be so intense. For a moment, she is silent, her eyes darting away before meeting yours again, this time with a mixture of frustration and pain. 

"Come on, we were never even really friends.”

You can’t blink back the tears as they form in your eyes now, “don’t start lying to me now Bueckers.”

Paige recoils slightly, as if your words are physical blows. For a moment, she seems to be struggling with something, then her posture stiffens, an accusing finger reaching out to point at you as she doubles down on her statement, “we both know that I was just your muse or whatever the hell you want to call it. You did not treat me like a friend, you used me to get praise from Leo and whoever the hell else you thought you needed approval from. You took me for your art when I was at my lowest, again and again, just because my face got your work attention.” 

The accusation stings, not just because of its intensity, but because part of you knows there's some truth in it. You've always known how compelling she was in front of the camera, how her expressions could turn simple photos into art, and you loved it. 

Before everything fell apart, the two of you had become something of a dynamic duo. Everywhere Paige went, often for basketball, you followed, and everywhere you went, a camera was almost always hanging around your neck. 

The passion Paige had for her sport and the passion you had for your art is what originally brought the two of you together, bonding over the drive each of you had to constantly be your at your best, for better or for worse. 

____

It was your freshman year. You had just been offered a coveted spot on the UConn sports media team after your photojournalism professor, Leo Howard, had apparently spent the entire semester showing your work to his collogues who had unanimously agreed, you were going to be something special.  Being the only freshman to ever have been allowed to serve as the lead photographer at the school’s games was a big deal. The pressure not fully weighing down on you until the night before the UConn, Notre Dame women’s basketball game. 

They had started you out small, tennis, water polo, even a soccer match as your superiors had gained more confidence in you. But this would be the first big event you’d shoot, your first chance to really prove yourself, to prove that Leo was right about you. 

The clock had just struck midnight when you made your way across campus, having given up on trying to get any sleep earlier in the night. Opting instead to head to the athletics department gym where they had allowed you to stash away your things in a small, abandoned office room. Assuming that'd be better than staying cooped up in your dorm all night. 

When you arrived, instead of being greeted by the silent gym you’d anticipated, a woman was stood at the half court line, a basketball bouncing up to meet her outstretched palm before being pushed down, again, again, again. 

“The gym’s closed.” Her voice calls out to you, finally noticing you as you made your way across the court, heading for the office door. 

You had lifted your UConn Staff lanyard up to show to her, “I could tell you the same thing.” 

She approached you, your height difference becoming more apparent the closer she gets until she’s fully towering over you, “I don’t remember seeing you around here.” 

“I’m the new photographer, I just started last month.”

This explanation apparently does little to clarify your sudden appearance in her court, “okay, but you’re not supposed to be here, it’s late.” She points out, her tone mixing curiosity with a hint of concern.

“I know but I’m shooting my first big event tomorrow and I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d just come here and look at some old shots and stuff, prepare you know?” you rambled, hoping to justify your presence in the gym at such an unusual hour.

You’ve gotten her attention now, “Oh, I have a game tomorrow, is that what you’re here for?” 

You had of course, assumed she was on the basketball team when you saw her dribbling the ball earlier. But as when she had moved to stand in front of you, you immediately recognized her as the infamous Paige Bueckers, the star player you’d been specifically ordered to get good shots of during this game. 

"Yes, that's exactly it. I’ll be covering the game," you confirmed, feeling a slight relief as she seemed to recognize your role and accept the reason behind your late-night visit.

“Oh, cool, I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?” 

You nod in response, “yeah, I guess you will.” 

She gives you a small smile before beginning to walk back to her original position on the court, “I’m Paige by the way!” She calls out as you reach the door, you turn back, shouting your name out, already anticipating the next time you’ll get to see her.

As it turns out, you don’t have to wait long. Barely 30 minutes have passed when you’re interrupted by a knock on your door, “hey,” she lets herself into the small office space, taking a seat on your desk. 

“Hey?” 

This girl has guts you can’t help but think. You’d just met and now she’s propping herself up on your furniture, uninvited. 

You’d probably be a lot more bothered by her behavior if you weren’t so distracted by how pretty she looked, even under the glow of the notoriously unflattering florescent office lights.  

“I was thinking, you need to practice shooting basketball games, and I’m just practicing shooting so if you wanted you could take pictures of me, you know, to get the hang of it you could.” She offers. 

“Oh, yeah that actually sounds great!” You're unable to keep your excitement about getting to spend more time with her entirely out of your voice when you reply, grabbing your camera bag as she moves off your desk to stand back up, holding the door open before following you back out to the court. 

“Honestly I’m kinda tired so I’m only doing free throws but feel free to take whatever pictures you want.” 

You take her words to heart, the clicks of your camera mingling with the pounding of the ball on the floor as you take picture after picture after picture. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall into a steady rhythm, occasionally daring to interrupt the other’s focus with questions, jokes, or quick quips about the others work. 

The next day whenever she gets a basket, her eyes turn to you first, pointing at your camera for you to get a shot, and every time she does, you take it. 

You’ve never seen Leo smile so big as he does when he gets your contact sheet.

The “You did good, kid. I hope to keep seeing more stuff like this.” echoing in your mind when you leave his office, calling Paige, “when’s the next time you can shoot?”

She had left practice the second she heard your voice over the phone, “I can be free now.” 

____

You’re abruptly pulled from your memory by the chime of the café door. A group of girls enters, their laughter and chatter filling the air. One girl stands out, wearing a stark white jersey with the number 5 displayed prominently across her chest. The sight of it jolts you back to the present, a reminder of where you are and what’s at stake.

“Paige we can’t do this here” you say keeping your voice low, sensing that this may not end well, and as Paige had just mentioned, any picture of her ends up everywhere, and if captured, this probably wouldn’t be a pretty one. 

She exhales sharply, her lips parting to argue, but then she pauses, scanning the surrounding area for any potentially prying eyes, brows raising when she sees her lucky number 5 on the chest of a brunette who is now whispering with her friends, looking Paige's way. With a reluctant nod, she chooses silence, perhaps unable to concede that you might be right.

The tension between you is palpable, a brewing storm that has been building for too long, promising to pour down on you both.

The two of you don’t make it far, her car is parked right outside and the second the doors lock she’s turned back to you, brows raised in anticipation of your rebuttal. 

You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words to express the mix of anger and hurt that's been simmering inside you. “Let’s get one thing straight, if I wasn’t your best friend, you most certainly were not my ‘muse’.” you begin, unable to hold back the anger that’s been quietly brewing inside since you first heard her pathetic attempt at an apology 10 minutes ago. 

The sharp sound of her laughter interrupts you, “okay then, you were just using my face to further your career and you didn’t give a single fuck about me.” 

Your anger pulses hotter at her laughter. 

If you had thought the silence between you two was bad, then this must be hell. Everything she says, every expression she makes sends you spiraling deeper and deeper down.  You don’t even want to look at her anymore, scared that if you catch her gaze again, the once warm and loving looks you remember her by will be permanently tainted by the pure and utter distain that seems to be consuming her now. You want to reach out, to say something that will mend the rift, but fear and doubt hold you back. In this moment, you realize just how fragile your connection has become, teetering on the edge of collapse.

"I wasn't using you," you assert firmly, struggling to keep your voice level. "Yes, you've helped my career—that's undeniable. But that was never the only thing you were for me. Our friendship, what I thought was our friendship, meant more to me than any photo ever could."

Paige's laughter fades, and she looks at you, her expression hardening as she processes your words. 

"It didn't feel that way to me," she shoots back, her voice tight. "Every time you needed something for your portfolio or an exhibit, who did you turn to, not any of your other friends, me. Don’t you think that’s a little strange.” 

The accusation stings, God she really knew nothing about you, did she? 

“I reached out to you because I thought you liked it. Every time I took something you posted it, on media days you always requested me specifically, even when we were freshman and there were people who knew much more than I did, so don’t try to delude yourself, we both benefited from this. But at least I was under the impression that we liked spending time together, that it wasn't all just so I could get more praise for my pictures.” 

She stares at you, her expression blank, as if your words are too much for her to process.

"You actually need to just leave now," her hand reaching to unlock the car doors while she motions for you to exit.

“No," you reply appalled, "you can't just kick me out because I made a good point.” 

She lets out a dismissive scoff, her hands moving to grip the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white with tension."This is my car and I’m asking you to leave.” 

Your eyes narrow feeling a sudden surge of familiar desperation. “You’ve walked away from me once, I’m not about to let you do it again.” 

She just stares at you, her gaze cold and unwavering, each of you refusing to be the one to break eye contact with the other. 

“If you really thought I was using you, why on earth would you continue agree to every single shoot for 2 years? Even if you don't think I do I know you, you wouldn't have done that. So why are you really shutting me out Paige?” You press, watching her closely. Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing your fear of losing her for good.

She diverts her gaze, her eyes finally falling away from yours. Staying silent for a full minute before she straightens up, seemingly gathering her composure, and shifts the conversation topic away from her wrongdoings and back to yours.

 “Intentions don’t matter anymore. Actions do. And your actions have shown me exactly where I stand in your life. Tell me again, what's your most famous photo, huh?"

It's a low blow, and it doesn’t take long for you to catch onto what she’s talking about. The two of you have had quite a few viral moments but one far surpassed the other. There was only one picture that had landed a coveted cover spot on the headlined article on ESPN, a place in CNN’s ‘This Week in Pictures’ and internship offers from all the way in New York to L.A. 

____

She had crumpled to the ground, clutching her knee in agony, silencing the crowd in an instant. Her teammates had quickly formed a barrier around her, protecting her. Through a narrow gap between them, her eyes, wide and brimming with pain and vulnerability, darted around frantically until they finally locked onto yours. 

It was a look of pure, raw emotion—a silent plea for comfort, for reassurance, for the familiar presence that had always been her anchor. Her hand reached out, trembling, as if by some miracle, your touch could erase the pain. And in that moment, as she reached desperately towards you, almost mechanically, you lifted your camera. 

The weight of it felt heavier than ever before. Looking through the viewfinder, you saw her in perfect focus, every detail of her suffering magnified. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of hope and despair, seemed to question your every move.

As you pressed the shutter, capturing the raw, gut-wrenching moment, a pang of guilt surged through you. The image was powerful, a testament to her strength and vulnerability, but it came at a cost.

Lowering the camera, you were left standing there, the echo of the shutter still ringing in your ears. You wanted to drop everything and run to her, but the moment had passed. The damage was done. Her eyes, now filled with a sense of betrayal, lingered on you before she turned away, her teammates closing ranks around her once more.

____

You gape at her, a million thoughts running through your mind, none of them coherent enough to form a sentence. You thought about this picture frequently; its creation was instinctive, driven by a reflex that you hadn't fully understood even as you pressed the shutter.  You’d always (foolishly) assumed that she had known that you never meant for the photo to get out. It was a mistake, a lapse in judgment, a moment of weakness where your professional instincts overpowered your personal loyalty.

It was never meant to be published—but Leo had discovered it, and from there, it spiraled out of your control, gaining a life of its own in the public eye. The image, once released, spread like wildfire. It became the defining shot of your career and the defining wound of hers.

“Paige, I-“

She shakes her head no, her expression eerily similar to the one in the picture that ruined the two of you.  “Please just leave,” she repeats, her normally deep voice an octave lower with the intensity of the emotion coursing through her words. 

Realizing you have no ground left to stand on, the least you can do is abide by her request. You reach for the door handle, but her voice stops you. 

"And for the record," she begins, answering your earlier question, "I always agreed to those photos because I loved you and I thought maybe, just maybe, if I helped you get what you wanted, it might make you love me back.”

Her confession wrenches a sudden and uncontrollable sob from your throat, you want nothing more than to shut the door, wrap your arms around her, and beg for the forgiveness you know deep down you’ll never deserve until your heart gives out. 

But instead you stand, exiting the car and turning to her one last time, speaking up through tears, "I can't justify what I did with that picture, and I know that if I spent every moment of my life trying to make it up to you, I'd still fall short," you say, your voice choked with regret. 

Taking a deep breath, you looking up before meeting her gaze again. "And I know I didn’t show it well, but I loved you too."

She looks away, blinking back tears, her shoulders trembling, she whispers, her voice barely audible, repeating the words you’d uttered just a few minutes before, “don’t lie to me.”

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

paige x short uconn wbb player gf hcs!!! but like their relationship isn’t public 🫣

(short as in like 5’3-5’5 hehe)

paige bueckers x short!wcbb player!gf hcs

୭ ✧ ˚. 🏀✧˚ · .༊*·˚𐦍༘⋆ paige with a short basketball player gf,,

— you caught her eye INSTANTLY during basketball workouts at uconn

— she was actually so impressed to find out you’re an 83% three-point shooter

— at first during practice she was so scared to even run near you because she didn’t want to hurt you or actually tumble over you

— made a bet with the rest of the team that she could jump over you..

- obviously it didn’t work

— in practice she’ll lift you up so you can dunk

— SOSOSO PROTECTIVE OVER YOU

- she second you get fouled she’s right by your side

- will defo play dirty with whoever fouled you

— you’re such a dynamic duo on the court

- that’s what the press says LOL

— will make jokes constantly about how short you are

- especially on live

- “guys she’s the shortest basketball player in history”

— the media doesn’t know you’re dating lowkey

— they always just say that “paige is really dedicated to the team and you can see that through their bond”

— loves assisting you

— resists every urge to kiss you after a win

- resists even harder to kiss your forehead after a loss

— had to teach you how to block good

- “you can still block even if you’re only three feet tall”

— always giving you little glances during post-game media

— you guys can communicate so well on the court (you always know what the other person is tryna do)

- will set the most amazing screens without you even motioning for them

— the media is lowkey suspicious because you play TOO WELL together

— has to wait awhile after the game so no onside can see you leave together

— when she was injured you dedicated every shot you made to her

— will literally ask you at 3am if you want to just practice shooting

- you always say yes

— if you get injured she’s by your side in a split second

— the whole team teases you for your height

- ESPECIALLY KK

— one time you broke some girls ankles and paige saw from the bench (screams cheering)

- “that should’ve been illegal it was so good”

— paige tells the rest of the team to go crazy when you cheer so she’s not the only one

— she wants to wear your jersey but it’s too fucking small

— going against SC is crazy

- “babe she’s more than a foot taller than you. you can’t guard her.”

— “short stuff”

— paige will hold her hand above your head and tell you to practice by jumping and hitting it

- literally bullies you

— paige loves to compare hand sizes

— everyone underestimates you bc of your height but you’re literally a fireball and your gf knows it

— you’ll always forever be each other’s biggest fan

— “how do you even grip the ball your hands are so small”

- “i have to hold with two..”

- makes dirty jokes about that

⋆˚✿˖°ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

heyyyyyyyyyy guys i’m back…. 😅😅

kate martin fics??!!!!!

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

At who's the best at

Paige Bueckers x Fem reader

Warnings: Slowburn (?), curses, sexual inunendos

A/N: I couldn't think of a title 😭 I am so sorry. Other characters are from my imagination, they are not related to NCAA at all. Had to get this ideas out of my head.

Y/N was panting, hands on her knees after doing laps across the court. Today is hell, Geno is not taking it easy on them, the training is tougher compared to the previous months as their team is advancing to Elite 8. She thanked the cardio gods for being on her favor today or she will pass out. Taking one last deep breath, she put her both hands on her waist and walked towards the three point shot perimeter. Qadence pats her on the back while she is dribbling for a three point shot.

"Take it easy babe." She nodded at Qadence before shooting the ball. Another miss.

"Miller!" Geno motioned to come to him. Y/N sighed and jog towards her coach's direction.

"Kid, do you see this?" Geno handed her his clipboaard with her stats on it.

"This is from the last game against Duke."

Y/N scanned her stats, and it is much better progress compared to their match against Sycaruse and Jackson State.

"Yeah and it will get more better if you can hoop today. What the hell is wrong Miller? Shade and Edwards blocked you three times today. You don't get blocked thrice based on these stats. What's wrong kid?"

Y/N didn't respond and remain silent. It shows in the practice that she is preoccupied today.

"Nothing Geno, it's just......" she trailed off thinking of what she should say.

"I'll do better. I'll make sure to clear my mind before practice so I can focus." Y/N continued, bowing her head slightly. She had to prove to UConn women's basketball team that they will not regret accepting her back when she transferred here during her 2nd year. But Geno doesn't seem to be convinced of her answer.

"Alright. I am expecting much better results in our next practice. We can't make excuses once USC had our asses in our match. Go take a swim or a run in your neighborhood or whatever later, you're not yourself today and I don't want to see you like a vegetable during practice."

Y/N nodded and Geno gave her an encouraging pat on the back before letting her go back to practice. It made her feel a little better but her day is still shitty.

----

Y/N's phone keeps vibrating, this is the umpteenth time her parents called her today. She doesn't want to answer it, it will be divorce probably. It already threw her game off today and she doesn't want to ruin her day more by answering it.

Mum:

talk to me hun, please

Hun, we are sorry, I know this will be hard for you.

Do you hate us?

I'm sorry, love. It's not working anymore between me and your dad.

Dad:

Peanut, please answer your phone.

I'm sorry.

We wanted to tell you for a long time.

---

Y/N turned off her phone. With a deep sigh, she ate her tacos. She's got a lot on her plate now, her studies, her upcoming match, and now her parents divorce. She wanted to take a break.

"Boo, you okay? You're preocuppied the whole day." KK finally asked. Her teammates have been giving each other knowing looks and tiptoeing around her all day. They are not used to her being silent. She went out with them tonight hoping it will take off some things in her mind.

"I'm fine girl. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bad today." She smiled at KK. She's not ready to talk yet not until she's able to come to terms with her family.

"You suck, Miller. Paige is getting full of herself today and you're too preoccupied to humble her."

Paige almost choked on her shirley temple, she took a napkin and wiped her mouth.

"Me? Full of myself? Come on Aubs." Paige scoffs.

"Miller just realized today I don't need humbling, I'm actually good." Paige raised her eyebrows playfully followed by their teammates violent reactions.

Y/N grinned. She had to thank Paige for diverting their teammates from pressing on what's going on with her. The subject of being the best shooter between her or Paige became a daily banter. Paige was not unwelcoming when Y/N transferred in UConn but her competitive ass made sure to show why she was here first instead of Y/N. Y/N admits that Paige is actually better than her and the best all rounder, her transferring here seemed challenged the latter on who's best at what. She doesn't know why Paige thinks she has competition when she is actually the best. She likes to get on Paiges nerves so she gets along with Paige's imaginary contest.

"Get outta here Bueckers, I can do what you did earlier even with a hangover" Y/N said, giving Paige a sheepish grin. Paige made 43 consecutive 3 point shots, it got into her head today without Y/N beating it. It always annoy Paige when Y/N's record is close or beat hers.

"Oi, enough you two." Azzi stopped them before it could start to bickering. Y/N raised both her hands in surrender. She took a sip of her margaritas while still giving Paige a cocky grin. Now the latter looks annoyed.

They continued having fun, dancing and drinking. Y/N didn't move that much from her seat, she's tired and the margarita must've probabaly hit already.

"I'm just gonna go to the restroom." She excused herself. Feeling dizzy Y/n groaned, guess she will have that hangover tomorrow.

She decided to turn on her phone and was still bombarded with texts from her parents. Her mum's name popped on the screen and decided to answer it finally.

"Honey, I'm glad you answered. I've been calling all day." Her mom sounded worried on the other line.

"Sorry mum. Busy."

Her mother sighed. Y/N doesn't exactly know what to say, she is still processing that her parents will have a divorce. Out of 23 damn years, they just decided now that they don't need each other?

"Honey I.... I am so sorry. If you could come home soon we could have a talk, with your dad and I."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"I am not going home, mom. California is 2000 miles away, I have an upcoming game in 2 weeks, and I am busy for my finals. What's the point? Your going to sell the house anyway now that you are getting divorce."

She didn't mean to sound mad over the phone, but she is really upset.

"I will call you when I am ready to talk to you both. If you two want a divorce, fine, but give me time to process that my parents don't need each other anymore after 23 damn years."

She didn't wait for her mother's response and hang up.

------

Paige went back to their booth joined by a tipsy Nika after their teammates are gone to god knows where. Dancing or probably making out with someone.

"Hey P, have fun! You're awfully behave tonight. Loosen up, it's weekend tomorrow."

Nika nudged her and throw an arm over her shoulder.

"I'm good, Ma. I don't want hangover tomorrow. Besides, someone has to stay sober to make sure you all get home safely."

Nika scoffed, rolling her eyes at her teammate. It's their last free night before Geno will give them total hell in preparation against their match with USC.

"You're boring me P. I'll go join the others and have fun being miserable here. Have you se---" Nika wasn't able to finish her sentence when a commotion started in the middle of the bar. Recognizing the 6 foot tall asses of their teammates in the scuffle, the two ran towards their direction.

"What in the fuck happened?" Nika felt her slight tipsiness gone, helping KK reach Ayanna who's ready to take a swing to an athlete from Yale. The bouncers are trying to separate them before it ends up to a total brawl. Paige scanned where the others are and her eyes landed on Y/N, her sleeves are up, Aubrey blocking her from punching another Yale athlete.

"You don't talk shit here, dawg. Go back to New Haven and fuck your slutty girlfriend!"

Paige grabbed Y/N by the waist and dragged her out of the scene. For someone who is always cool and at her composure, she was surprised that Miller can trash talk.

"Calm down, Miller. You don't get to injure that million dollar hands." With Azzi trailing behind, she brought Y/N outside and pinned her on the wall to calm her down. She looks disheveled, some of her locks escaped from her ponytail, her face is red, her sleeves are uneven and she is reeking of alcohol. What a total mess.

"What in the world was that Y/N, I know you guys don't start fights but you all are better than this. Gosh, how many drinks did you have? You are reeking of alcohol!" Azzi said frustrated.

Y/N scoffs, wiping some sweat on her forehead. Paige couldn't agree more with Azzi. They don't start fights, Y/N never looses her cool even during their banters at who is best, intense matches and bad calls from ref. Paige wonders what made her so worked up that she almost punch someone today.

"Nah, I was cool Az. I took shots from everyone, sorry I lost count."

The 2 of them grimaced. They check Y/N if she had any injuries, Geno will kill them if they are scathed and once he hears about this. Azzi wonders as to why Yale women's basketball are in Storrs. That's like an hour drive just for a night's drink.

"God you are drunk and you can take a fight." Paige said amused. She never saw Y/N got drunk because she never was.

"Oh yeah Bueckers, wanna try? Let's take it here outside." Y/N stood straight, her face annoyed.

Well that was hot. Paige thought. She raised her hands in surrender before Y/N gets totally pissed. Y/N haven't landed a punch but it might be on Paige if she triggers the latter. Azzi gave her a scolding look.

"Chill, Ma. T'was a compliment."

Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall again. She's starting to feel hazy.

"What did they do anyway?" Azzi asked.

"Douchebag's girlfriend was offering me a drink, I declined. She thought I want to fuck her slutty girlfriend and proceeds to call us defects, the others heard it, we didn't mind until she pushed Aaliyah."

Paige clenched her jaw and Azzi rubs her temple. Half of the team suffered injury in the past year. Paige wished she hadn't grabbed Y/N and let her land her fist first before fleeing from the scene, it was uncalled for. Drunken Miller surprised them tonight, they didn't know that her mouth can talk.

"That's it, we are all getting home. I'm gonna go get the others." Azzi left them outside.

"Yeah Azzi and tell that cunt to fuck her girlfriend properly."

Paige shook her head. Y/N is definitely the highlight of tonight's event.

"What got you so worked up today, Miller? You almost took it out on someone."

KK was right, Y/N was preoccupied. She didn't have any baskets during practice. Paige had 29 3 points in a row today, usually Y/N comes close or even beat her. It's unusual for someone who plays ball since 5th grade, she just did laps all day.

Y/N groans. "I'll talk about it tomorrow when I'm sober. can you take me home please? Paige."

Paige, licked her lips and pretends to think about it. She's gonna do it anyway.

"I never thought you were into girls." Paige blurted out. She mentally slapped herself right after. Her intrusive thoughts won.

"You guys never asked. I never said I was into boys either. So annoying."

For some reason, Paige couldn't keep her smile off. She was grinning like and idiot. Y/N noticed and she rolled her eyes, Paige looks stupid.

"You look like an idiot Bueckers."

"Maybe I am."

She twirls her car keys and they started to walk where she parked her car. She's behind Y/N who's trying to keep a straight-face and herself from stumbling.

Azzi and KK following them, KK still heated from the commotion earlier and keeps trash talking. Azzi is trying to cover her mouth for being loud. KK, Azzi, Nika and Y/N rode with Paige. The others were at Aaliyah's car since they live together in the same apartment. Paige shook her head, they are all dead on Monday.

-------

Y/N woke up, her head pounding and throat dry. She groaned when she tried to get up. She knew immediately it was bad last night to have a hangover like this, she rarely gets drunk and when she does, she has it bad. She jolted up when realizes that this is not her room. The bed sheet is purple, there are Miami Heat posters everywhere and the trophies are too many to be hers. Not until she saw the familiar number 5 jersey hanging on the wall.

"Fuck, what did I do last night." She whispered to herself. This must be Paige's room. She tries recalling the events of last night and vaguely remembers the Yale athlete talking shit. She almost got involved in a brawl.

Y/N got up from bed only to realize that she is wearing Paige's clothes, it's one of her old team USA shirts, nothing else and her boxers. It's already 2 in the afternoon, she could hear the ruckus outside Paige's room and KK's rambunctious laugh.

She opened the door and was greeted by the chaos of her teammates.

Y/N winced when the pounding of her head hits again. She sat down on one of the bean bags and leaned her head back trying to ease the headache. In an instant, Paige handed her a bottle of water and a tylenol. She gave Paige what is this for ? look.

"Your hangover, duh."

"Ya'll our sleeping beauty is awake." KK sat beside her but she was waiving where Ice was. Ice was doing live on the corner, and she didn't realize that where she is is being captured. Gosh she looks horrible.

"Guys, they wanna know something. You remember we did a tiktok of who among in the team you don't want your kid to date..... They want the opposite."

Qadence was quick to shout "Aaliyah" followed by KK's "Y/N"

"Yeah, I'll go with Y/N too." Ice agreed

"Y/N will throw hands, I'll bet on her too." Aubrey added.

" 'bout you, Paige?"

The team groaned when Paige showed her "rizz hands."

"Will we go further? I'll let my kid date myself." The team erupted in disagreement. Nika throws a pillow towards Paige's direction. "Dream on Bueckers!" Y/N shakes her head too.

Paige is a gender bender, the amount of fans she has be it a boy or a girl is insane. She may look like a fuck-boy type but she'll be a good girlfriend, the question though is, can they take her superstar life?

"Y/N, they wanted to know who you want your kid to date." Ice turned towards her. Y/N straightened her back a little, enough only to face Ice.

"No one, you guys loves ball more than relationships." Everyone burst in laughter.

"You heard our homie? We're not playboys/playgirls, basketball is life." Ice said in live while giving a thumbs up.

"Nawww! she's just playing safe!" KK shouted.

" Y/N is so fine, I think I'll start watching live " Ice reading through comments.

Y/N suddenly felt conscious. She moved where the camera can't see her so she can deal with what's left of her hangover.

" Does Y/N have a boyfriend or what? Saw her in Stanford before and what the hell is she doing on the court, go model in a runway or something--- Yo! Someone said you should model Y/N!" KK is reading along with Ice now.

Y/N blushed on the compliment(?). She couldn't think of herself as someone who walks on a runway or pose for a magazine aside from playing ball. She's no Cameron Brink who could pass that criteria.

"Maaaaan, they are all whipped to our girly pop. We've been gatekeeping our secret weapon."

Some of her teammates joined KK and Ice in reading the comments.

"Y/N c'mere they want to see you."

Y/N doesn't want to be rude by not saying even a "hi" but she really feels shit right now. She look around the room and her eyes landed on Paige, begging for help.

"Y'all sorry but Miller is not feeling well, you'll get to see her in Gampel soon. Be sure to be there." Paige shouted while throwing an arm around Y/N's shoulder. They are both far from the camera, Y/N waived though from where they are.

"Thank God." Y/N muttered and leaned on Paige's shoulder and she felt her stiffened.

Ice wrapped up her live leaving disappointed viewers to only see a glimpse of Y/N. All of them went back to their chaotic self.

--------

A/N: Please stay tuned for the next part. I think I have a hangover too 🤮. Wrote this when we were at the bar. Feedbacks and suggestions are open.

ALSO..... DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHO DOES THE GIRLS HAIRS DURING THEIR GAMES? DO THEY HAVE A HAIRSTYLIST OR WHAT?? PLEASE HELP A GIRL OUT. 😌

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

more than that

pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 9.6k c/w: sexual content, language synopsis: paige and laila have been friends (or more) for quite a while. but friends with benefits can become much more than that. a/n: had this little puppy in the archives, and someone sent me an ask saying it's their birthday. figured i haven't put out something of this length in a while! want to preface this by saying i'm aware ivy's don't give athletic scholarships. also that paige is a little insane and a lot stupid. anyway, since it's the off season and we won't get basketball for a while, just trying to keep everyone fed. :)

“Five.”

“No.”

“Okay, ten.”

“Still no.”

“Fifteen?”

“Paige, what makes you think that going any higher is going to make me want to take you up on this bet?”

Paige wrinkles her nose, then shrugs. “Bro, I just have a feeling you’re very, very wrong.” I roll my eyes at her. “When have I ever been wrong?” I ask. It’s a reasonable question, with a very obvious answer. She points at me accusingly. “You got a 98 on your calculus test. You were wrong then.” I scoff. “Well, I’m not wrong this time. Coach Auriemma will one hundred percent not let me onto the bus for an away game.”

Paige pouts. She’s dressed in full Husky gear today, a gray hoodie thrown over a pair of sweats. Her hair is tied back in a bun, but the two front strands dangle in front of her clear, blue eyes. She’s seated next to me in the booth at a local diner, and I have a full view of her side profile; sharp jaw, upturned nose, high cheekbones, perpetual smirk. “It couldn’t hurt to try…” she mumbles, reaching for her milkshake. 

I hold my hands up in defeat. I’m currently visiting Paige, and her, myself, and Azzi came out for a quick bite after practice. “Do whatever you want, Paige,” I sigh. She kicks me under the table. “You’re a bad sport. And if you’re so sure he won’t let you, then take me up on the bet.” Azzi groans and drops her head to her hands. “You two fight more than Paige and I do. Honestly, Paige, you need to quit forcing Laila up to Storrs for visits just so you can annoy her.” 

Paige frowns at Azzi. “I don’t annoy Laila,” she protests, draping an arm around me and pulling me into her side. She smells clean, like soap and shampoo. “Yes, you do,” Azzi and I respond automatically in unison. “Well, I don’t know why you want to act like you’re not annoying. You do annoying stuff,” she tells me indignantly. I raise an eyebrow at her. “Like what?” I demand. 

“Well, first off, you kick in your sleep,” she starts. My eyes widen. “Bitch!” I gasp. “You hog the blanket,” I counter quickly. She snorts. “That’s because you sleep in a ball.” I smack her side, inching out from under her arm. “I do not! I sleep like a normal person,” I protest. She settles her arm back around me and drags me back into her side, smirking at me. “Of course you do, Laila,” she says patronizingly. 

“Anyways,” she says, turning to Azzi. “I’m not forcing Laila to come up here. She’s grown. She chooses to come visit me, even though I apparently ‘annoy’ her.” She jabs a finger into my side, and I push at hers. “Whatever. New Haven’s just boring,” I snipe. “Nah, I think you’re secretly in love with me,” Paige teases. I pull a face at her, but my face still grows warm and my stomach still twists.

The truth is, Paige isn’t too off base. The two of us have known each other forever, since high school. She played basketball for Hopkins, and I played volleyball for Wayzata. We’d met at our school rivalry game, and she’d pretended to hit on me off a team dare. The rest was history. 

“... honestly, she should just transfer at this point,” Paige is saying matter-of-factly. I gape at her. “What, to UConn?” Azzi makes a similar face. “From Yale?” she demands. “From Yale?” Paige mimics her. “Yes, from Yale.” I drop my head to Paige’s shoulder, pulling out my phone. “Peace and love, babes, I’m not transferring out of Yale,” I tell her. She snatches my phone out of my hands. 

“Who you texting?” she teases. “My friends, bro,” I snatch it back from her. She rubs her fingers along my shoulder soothingly, trying to catch a glimpse of my face. “Why your friends got you smiling like that, huh?” 

“Paige, quit looking at my phone,” I mumble absentmindedly, grinning at a TikTok my teammates sent me. “Paige, quit looking at my phone,” she mimics again. Azzi throws a fry at her. 

“Why not? You could come play volleyball here,” Paige complains. I shoot Azzi a look, like, ‘really?’ Azzi sighs. “I’m gonna get more ketchup. You deal with her,” she tells me. Paige glares at her. “I don’t need to be dealt with,” she says indignantly. “Anyway, you should transfer,” she continues, taking my phone away again. I sigh, looking up to meet her clear, blue eyes. “Are we actually having this discussion?” I ask tiredly. She looks appalled. “Yes, bro,” she says, as though it’s obvious. 

“Paigey, why on Earth would I transfer from Yale?” She gives me another ‘duh’ look. “We have volleyball here, too,” she says. I blink. I always forget that Paige is this huge, superstar athlete, and that her sport will be her career. “Okay, but volleyball isn’t my future,” I remind her gently. “It’s just something that’s putting me through school. You know that.” Paige wrinkles her nose. “I always forget about law school.”

I laugh lightly. “I really wish I had that luxury.” Paige turns to look down at me, eyes roving my face, before she tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, her fingers nimble. “I miss you, though.” My heart stutters. Just friends, just friends, just friends.

The truth is, I haven’t been ‘just friends’ with Paige Bueckers in a long time. We met when we were about fourteen years old, and we got close super fast. A little too close. She was my first kiss. Well, we’d done a little more than kiss. But we were young and stupid, and we didn’t realize it was perfectly normal to like other girls. We hadn’t spoken of it since.

That wasn’t to say that I hadn’t thought about it. Of course I had. Every girl or guy I’d ever dated, I’d compared them to her. His hands didn’t feel as good on me as Paige’s did. She didn’t kiss like Paige. He didn’t sound like Paige, she didn’t feel like Paige. It was a vicious cycle. It took me a long time to admit that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want anyone who wasn’t Paige. 

I inch out from under her arm slowly, ignoring the flash of hurt across her face. Thankfully, Azzi comes back before I have to respond to what Paige said. “Is she done?” she asks me. I groan. “Is she ever?”

_________

“He said yes?” I ask incredulously. “Bro, Coach is my guy, I gotchu!” Paige crows, jumping up and down on the bed. “I don’t have anything to wear, Paige!” I complain. “You can just borrow my clothes,” she suggests. I give her an ‘are you serious?’ look. “You literally leave in an hour, I don’t even have time to do laundry-” Paige cuts me off by grabbing my hand. “Dude, it’s not that deep. We’ll figure it out. Just pack what you have, and we’ll go.”

“I have school,” I protest weakly. Paige shoots me a look. “You were supposed to be here a week anyway. Coming on the road is better than being in an empty apartment for two days, bro.” I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know, Paigey…”

“Laila, please? You love coming to my games anyway.” I ponder for a moment, twisting my mouth. “I really, really want you there,” she says, softer this time, pulling me in by the waist and looking up at me earnestly. My breath catches. She smirks. “Fine,” I relent.

__________

The bus ride to Villanova is long and bumpy. I find myself falling asleep on Paige within the first thirty minutes of the ride, tucked into her side with an arm thrown around me, all under a blanket. 

Every time I’m with Paige, I try my best to be present, and in the moment. Not just because I only see her once every couple of months, but because if I think about the future, I think about the past. Our past. 

You could say I’m a masochist for crawling back to Storrs whenever Paige calls with an ‘I miss you’ or ‘Can I see you?’ You might say I’m weak. You’d probably be right. But with Paige and I… it’s different. It’s always been different. And if keeping Paige in my life means being in love with her in private, I guess it’s just something I have to put myself through. 

I’m woken up by a soft noise in my ear. It’s Paige. She sighs breathily, frowning in her sleep. I watch her as her breath whistles through her parted lips, lashes fluttering. Her tongue darts out to wet her mouth. Then, she lets out a slight moan. And another, head tilting back.

I squeeze my hand where it’s resting at her thigh. “Paige,” I whisper urgently. “Laila,” she sighs, still asleep. “Paige, wake up,” I say, louder this time. I squeeze at her thigh again. Her eyes flutter open, lips still parted. Her eyes take a second to focus on me, before she rasps out, “Fuck.”

“What?” I ask, concerned. She shakes her head, leg shifting slightly. Suddenly, my hand is inches away from…

“Could you just… move your hand?” she asks groggily. I blink. “Why..?” I wonder aloud, before it dawns on me. My eyes widen. “Are you..?” She bites her lip, eyes trailing to the ceiling. And although I know exactly what’s happening, my hand doesn’t move. Instead, it inches to the waistband of her shorts like it has a mind of its own. 

“Do you need..?

Her eyes snap back to mine, widened, the blues of them darkened by her pupils. “Laila, what?” She asks, voice still hoarse. It doesn’t help the fluttering in my chest. I hesitate. “I just… if you need me to, I can-”

She groans, her hand coming up to trail down her face. “You better be fucking serious right now, Laila.” I bite my lip, watching her jaw clench. “Do you need me to?” I ask softly.

Her response is quick. “Yes. Fuck, yes, before I change my mind.”

“Okay,” I whisper, dipping my hand into her panties and moving closer.

“Shit, you’re wet,” I mumble into her ear, dipping two fingers into her folds. She hisses softly.

My thumb finds her clit and I circle it lightly, watching her eyes flutter shut and her tongue dart out to wet her lips. “Is that good?” I whisper softly, pushing in and out of her. She’s so wet that they slide in and out ridiculously easy. I bite my lip as she nods quietly, brow furrowing. Her lips part as I go deeper, head tipping farther back.

“Shit,” she hisses.

I swallow hard. “Hush,” I mumble, looking around. The truth is, I want to hear her curse, and moan, and whimper, and whatever it is she wants to do. If I could fuck her, like, really fuck her, not on a bus…

I savor the thought, leaning next to her ear to whisper, “Open your eyes.” She obliges, eyes shooting open to rove over my face as I fuck her with my fingers. I bite my lip, pinching her clit hard, once, before plunging in deep. “I’m gonna-” she starts huskily, teeth digging into her bottom lip. I keep her eyes locked with mine, circling her clit hard before I feel her pulse beneath me, breath shuddering out as she finishes.

I work her through her orgasm, lip between my teeth. She doesn’t break eye contact, her blue eyes nearly blown black, eyes trailing between my own and my lips. “I forgot how good you were at that,” she whispers. I breathe out shakily. “You should go clean up,” I tell her, feeling a pit open in my stomach.

“Nah, let me get you first,” she says back, casual as can be. My heart stutters. “What?” I whisper. She leans closer, lips pressed against my ear. “I know how wet getting me off makes you,” she says, voice sultry and soft. “Paige-” I start wearily. She ignores me, reaching under the blanket to ease my fingers out of her. “Suck,” she murmurs. I huff lightly. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, and makes a ‘hurry up’ motion with her finger. I glance around, placing my fingers in my mouth quickly, then nearly groan at how good she tastes. I let my eyes flutter shut as Paige pulls my fingers from my mouth and places my arm under the blanket before she pulls my leg over her lap.

“Paige, you don’t have to-” “I want to,” she interrupts me, locking her eyes with mine. “Just shut the fuck up for a minute, dude.” I laugh breathily as her hand teases the hem of my shorts, fingers ghosting the inside of my thigh. “You think you can make me come in a minute?” I mumble, lips pressed against her ear. I feel her low chuckle more than hear it. “I’ve made you come in less,” she reminds me quietly, fingers sinking into me.

I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut, as she works me with her fingers, her thumb pressing at my clit. “Fuck,” I hiss as her fingers go deeper, curling ever so slightly. “Shhh,” she soothes. “Look at me,” she whispers. “I can’t,” I mumble into her neck, feeling my cheeks warm at the thought of watching her face as she gets me off. Her fingers find a spot that’s especially deep and I whimper into her skin.

“Come on, Laila, you can’t be making that much noise,” she murmurs to me. “Sorry,” I whisper. My eyes roll back when she circles my clit hard, once, twice…Then she starts talking to me.

“So quiet. Such a good girl.” I gasp lightly.

“Are you close?” I hum in response to this.

“You’re doing so good, I promise.”

“Almost there.”

“Yes, that’s good. You’re so good, baby, so fucking good.”

“Look at me, please.”

I pry my head off of her shoulder to take in her face. She bites her lip, eyes trained on my mouth. I part my lips ever so slightly. “I wanna watch you come,” she whispers. It sends me over the edge. I feel my orgasm shudder through me, soft and unassuming, but curling my toes, and my fingers that have somehow moved to the nape of Paige’s neck, sending my eyes rolling back into my head. Paige soothes me through it, patting my back, circling my clit, and it takes me a minute after she’s taken her fingers out of me and stuck them in her own mouth, before pulling me back into her side to realize what we’ve done.

I also realize that this is the first time in almost eight years of knowing each other that Paige has watched me finish. Whenever we… experimented, it was always with the lights off, drunk in the back of a car or in one of our bedrooms. 

She’d certainly never called me ‘baby’ before. 

Hm.

________

That’s when Paige and I truly went from friends to friends with benefits. Probably not the best idea, considering this long standing and apparently never ending crush I have on her. At first, it was just small things. At dinner, she’d put her hand on my thigh, and I’d excused myself to go to the bathroom. I hadn’t expected her to follow, but she’d pinned me against a stall door and kissed me to within an inch of my life. Gasping for breath, I told her we would finish this in the hotel room later that night. She’d made me come on her fingers again before forcing me to my knees to eat her out.

Tonight, we're back at the hotel after an afternoon game, a few of the girls chilling in mine, Azzi, Paige, and Aubrey’s hotel room. The hotel does have a pool, and I’m feeling particularly devious at present. I throw on one of Paige’s old Hopkins tees - it’s loose on me. Paige is six feet tall on a good day. I’m barely pushing five foot four.

I have on what has to be the world’s skimpiest black bikini underneath the shirt, and I shoot Paige a quick text before slipping out of the hotel room and heading up to the rooftop pool. Paige is out on the roof mere minutes after me, clad in black shorts and black sports bra. Shit, she’s hot. I catch the sharp angle of her jawline as she strains around, looking for me. 

“That was fast!” I call. Her eyes land on me, and her hand reaches up to scratch her neck. “Shit, you said you had a surprise. Got me all excited,” she shoots back, sauntering up to me. “So, you gonna keep that on, or…?” she trails off, tugging at my shirt. I stand up, chest pressed to hers, before shoving her back a little, my hand grazing her bare stomach. “Get in first,” I tell her, smirking. She whistles, low under her breath. “Whatever you say,” she murmurs, licking her lips. She backs up, taking a second to slide into the pool with a soft splash. I walk slowly to the edge, easing her shirt off of me and tossing it to the side. “Shit,” she grins. “Have you always been this fine?” She swims to the edge, tugging at my calves to try and pull me in. I take a seat at the edge of the pool, her head between my knees.

She swims closer, spreading my legs further apart so she can rest her hands on my thighs, then inches them back to cup my ass. “You know,” she murmurs. “I didn’t have any dessert tonight.” I sigh, tipping my head back and leaning on my arms. “Oh, yeah?” I mumble. Her fingers pull at the strings of my bikini bottoms, nimbly untying them. She breathes against my bare cunt, and my head lolls back down to look at her.

Her face is pulled into a shit-eating grin as she licks a long stripe against my pussy. I groan out loud. “Fuck, Paige,” I moan, when her tongue dips into me, and her lips suck hard on my clit. “Oh, that’s so good,” I breathe, tilting my head back and letting her work at me. 

“Damn, you look so good like this,” she tells me. “You think so?” I laugh breathily, meeting her eyes again. “Your tits,” she says, slurping loudly. I whimper, biting my lip. “In that top. Shit, you have no idea,” she finishes. She places wet, sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over my cunt, sucking hard at my clit, flicking her tongue at my entrance.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” I moan out, winding my hand into her hair to press her closer.

She laughs into my cunt, and the vibrations coax another mewl out of me. “I know,” she says, voice smug. I moan again, louder this time, before clamping my mouth shut. “I should probably- oh, fuck- be quieter… oh, my God, Paige,” I stutter, throwing a hand over my mouth. Her hands squeeze at my ass, and she looks up at me, eyes earnest, lips glistening with my arousal. “Why the fuck would you be quiet?” she asks, sinking her tongue in deep without breaking eye contact. Fuck. “Someone- someone might hear,” I gasp out. “Shit. I was lowkey counting on that,” she says. Then she smirks.

It sends me over the edge. My thighs quiver around her face, and I moan out, “Paige, fuck. Oh, Paige, yes. Don’t stop, please. Please, Paige, yes, yes, yes…” My back arches as I balance myself on my hands, throwing my head back as my climax crashes through me. Paige quickly ties my bathing suit bottoms back on as I catch my breath, then pulls me into the pool to connect our lips in a bruising kiss.

I smile against her mouth. “Your turn.”

__________

“Fuck, we’re late.”

I hear Paige’s agitated voice early the next morning, then feel her hands on my shoulder shaking me awake. “Laila, wake up,” she says, her tone urgent. I push myself up groggily, watching her shove our clothes into a suitcase. “What..?” I mumble. “We have to be on the bus in five minutes, or I’m gonna get my ass handed to me,” she replies. I groan. “Fuck. Why didn’t they wake us up?” I wonder, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and jogging to the bathroom to wash my face quickly.

I throw my laptop and chargers into my backpack and swing it over my back, tossing Paige the plastic baggie with our toothbrushes. The two of us rush to the bus, barely making it on. I volunteer to put our bags under the bus while Paige grabs us seats. When I climb onto the bus, I see Paige arguing in hushed tones with Azzi. “What’s going on?” I ask.

Azzi is snickering. “Just asking why these headasses didn’t wake us up,” Paige snipes. Azzi laughs even harder, elbowing Aubrey next to her. Aubrey grins up at us, looking like she’s also trying not to laugh. “Y’all had a… long night last night. We didn’t want to wake you,” she laughs. My cheeks warm immediately and Paige gapes. “Motherfuckers,” she mutters, taking my hand and leading me to the back of the bus.

“Use protection!” Azzi calls after us. I have to physically restrain Paige from lunging at her best friend by pushing her into the seat, and climbing over her into the window seat. “Behave,” I instruct. She makes a face at me, diving under the blanket to rest her head on my lap. Her legs dangle over the armrest on the other side, too long to prop up against the seat itself. I uncover her face, pushing the blanket away, and meet her clear blue eyes staring at me. 

“What?” I ask, combing my hand through her hair. I part it down the middle to start a crown braid. She closes her eyes, humming. “Nothing,” she mumbles, sighing contentedly. I return my attention to her hair, braiding it away from her face on both sides, then letting it loose at the ends, securing the twists lightly with the rubber bands. 

I look back at her to see her gazing at me intently, again. “Dude, do you want a picture?” I ask sarcastically. She smirks up at me. “No, I want to fuck you again.” My mouth falls open slightly and I smack her on the forehead. “Quit it,” I command, tone hushed, brows furrowed. She sits up, the blanket falling off slightly, and looks around us, checking to see who’s watching. “I bet the bathroom’s empty,” she sing-songs, tugging at my hand.

I pull my hand away, smacking her again, on her shoulder this time. “You are not fucking me in the bathroom of this bus,” I snap. Paige sighs, leaning back and spreading her legs. For some reason, the way she sits really does something to me. I tear my eyes away and curl up against the seat, focusing on the air above her. “Actually, you’re right,” she starts, placing a hand on my thigh. My eyes shoot to hers, and her hand squeezes, fingers long enough to span my thigh and wrap around partially. “Right about what?”

She shakes her head, licking her lips. “I don’t want to fuck you in that bathroom,” she says, moving closer. She places a feather-light kiss on my jaw, then pulls away ever so slightly. “But I do want to fuck you on my bed,” she murmurs, then lands another kiss on my neck. My breath hitches, my hand landing on her stomach and bunching the fabric of her tee-shirt. “And in my car.” Another kiss.

I bite my lip, trying my best to act like this isn’t affecting me. “And in the shower.” This one lands on the corner of my mouth and my lips part unwittingly. “In the pool again would be nice,” she suggests smugly, squeezing my thigh again. “I’d take my time, too.” My breath whistles out from between my lips, and she plants a kiss on them before pulling away quickly. “How many times you think I could make you come, Laila?” she asks, breath whispering against my lips. “You’re a fucking tease,” I bite back. She grins at me, satisfied, and sits back, legs still spread wide apart. “It’s so funny how bad you want me,” she chuckles, closing her eyes.

For some reason, it hits home. And it reminds me that this is all just a game to her, that I’m pining after her like I have been for nearly eight years now, and that she just sees me as an easy fuck at worst, and a friend at best. The truth lies somewhere in between. This game we’re playing, that for some reason, I thought was a good idea - or knew was a bad idea and didn’t care - it’s dangerous. I can’t let myself get caught up in it.

“Fuck you, Paige,” I spit, then climb over her. “Yo, what-” I hear her confused protests and feel her hands catching at my arms. “Laila!” I hear her call, but I make my way to the front of the bus, plopping down next to Azzi.

“Pretzel?” she asks. If she notices my distraught face, she doesn’t mention it, and I’m suddenly grateful that I’ve known Azzi just as long as I’ve known Paige. I take the bag out of her hand gratefully, and I’m silent the rest of the ride home. 

_________

“You have to fucking talk to me-”

“I really don’t.”

“Laila, it was a joke, I’m sorry.”

“No, this was a mistake. The bus, and-and the hotel room, and the fucking pool. God, I let you fuck me in a pool? That’s so unsanitary, Jesus.”

“Is that really your problem right now?”

“I don’t know what my problem is, Paige,” I spit, whirling on her.

“Maybe,” I hiss, “my problem is that you are not mature enough to be friends with benefits.”

She scoffs. “Oh, I’m not mature, huh? That’s what this is?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” I tell her firmly. “Because now everything is about sex for you, isn’t it?’

“We both know that’s not your problem, Laila.”

“Fuck all the way off.”

“Obviously I want you, too. Otherwise I wouldn’t be following you to bathrooms or fucking you in pools or whatever the fuck else we’ve done. You’re being fucking stupid.”

“Do not call me stupid. And don’t psychoanalyze me.” 

“Why not? Are you afraid I might find something you don’t like?” Paige’s tone is harsh.

“What could you possibly find?”

“That maybe you like fucking me!”

“Fuck off!”

“You like fucking me, and you’re not mature enough to admit it. We both know that’s it. And now you’re running away, because you do that with all your fucking problems.”

“Fine. I like fucking you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” I snarl, throwing a tee-shirt at her.

Paige’s eyes go dark and she stalks towards me, shoving me against a wall by my shoulders. “Was that so fucking hard?” she demands. Then she crashes her lips to mine and I find myself moaning into her mouth, hands burying into her hair while hers roam my body, gripping my ass, spanning my back. I walk her backwards, shoving her onto her bed. “This is the last time I’m letting you do this,” I tell her, but I reach for the hem of my tank top and pull it over my head, anyway. She shrugs off her shirt, too, tossing it to the side, and pulls me onto her to let me straddle her waist.

“You’re all talk,” she mumbles against my lips, letting me push her onto the bed so that she’s lying down, and squeezing my sides when I kiss down her neck, sucking at her collarbones, biting at the skin above her breasts. “Are you going to fuck other bitches while I’m in New Haven?” I demand. “Maybe,” she shrugs. “Why do you care?”

“Don’t,” I snarl, gripping her ponytail tightly and pulling. She moans lewdly. “Fuck, okay. Yeah. I won’t.” I lower my lips to hers again, grinding my hips against her own. “Good,” I murmur. I climb off of her to wrestle out of my shorts and panties, dropping them to the side so that I’m completely naked in front of her.

She sits up on her elbows, drinking me in. “Fuck,” she whispers. I lean down over her, cupping her face and kissing her fiercely. “You’re overdressed, Paigey,” I remark casually. “Do something about it,” she murmurs back. I pull her to her feet and let her strip, too, biting my lip as she reveals her broad shoulders, toned arms, defined stomach, her long legs. I push her back onto the bed, and climb up to grind my wet cunt against her abs. “Shit,” I gasp, as her skin meets my clit. She adjusts our legs so that we can slot against each other, and I whine at the way her wet pussy feels against mine.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” she mumbles. “Oh, God,” I moan, throwing my head back slightly, balancing myself on her stomach. “Feel good?” she asks, thrusting up against me. “Yes,” I mewl, moving my hand to her shoulder, the other tangled in her hair. Her hands move to my ass, squeezing, then trail up and down my torso, squeezing at my side. She takes one of my breasts in one hand and kneads it skillfully, tweaking my nipple. I meet her eyes, their blue irises challenging, and lean forward to take her breast in my mouth. They’re small, but perky, and I maintain eye contact with her as I place sloppy kisses around her nipple, licking at it shamelessly. She smacks my ass, grinding me down further, and I moan purposefully loud against her skin. “Fucking whore,” she says, but her tone is smug, her eyes glazed over with pleasure.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good,” she hisses out when I change the angle that we’re scissoring at. I have a higher vantage point, and I grind my hips down slower, using one hand to lift my hair and the other to squeeze at my breast. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” I whine, knowing she likes it when I’m so vocal. “Look so pretty when you ride me like this,” she murmurs, squeezing harder at my ass. “You like riding me?” She asks, smirking. I cock my head, grinding faster, and her eyes flutter shut. “Do you like it when I ride you?” I counter, innocent as can be. 

“Shit!” she gasps, and I feel her come apart against me, her pussy pulsating and dripping into mine. I grab her face, forcing her to look at me as she climaxes, and the blue of her eyes is nearly enveloped by the black. “Is that a yes, Paigey?” I coo. Her eyes roll back, body still shuddering. I’ve stopped moving my lower body, content with watching her finish. I push her mouth to mine in a punishing kiss. “God, I wanna record you when you come,” I whisper, and she laughs against my mouth.

“You got a filthy mind, Laila,” she teases, her voice raspy with exhaustion. Then her hands are gripping at my waist, and pulling me against her so that my back is pressed to her torso. “Filthy mouth, too,” she murmurs, lips pressing against the skin of my neck. My head lolls back against her shoulder as her hand trails downward down my stomach. “Oh, yes, Paige,” I moan as her fingers sink into me slowly. I spread my legs wider, and she pumps them in and out. “Yes, just like that,” I sigh. Her other hand comes up to squeeze my breast again, fingers moving faster, hand twisting my nipple. “Mmmm, fuck, don’t stop,” I tell her, biting at her earlobe. 

I whine out as she pinches my clit, back arching. “Fuck, you like that?” she murmurs, doing it again. She plunges in deeper, faster, alternating between toying with my clit and fucking up into me with her fingers. “Yeah, you like that,” she answers her own question when I open my mouth and a moan falls out.

“I’m close,” I force out, gripping at her thighs. “You gonna fucking come?” she asks, pinching my clit again, but harsher this time. That does it. I shatter with a scream: “Fuck, Paige!” and she coaxes me through my climax as it crashes through me, fingers circling my clit. I collapse against her, completely spent but completely satisfied. 

I feel her laugh reverberate against my back. “And you were tryna tell me you don’t like fucking me.”

____________

“Who is he?” Paige’s voice sounds loudly through my phone speaker.

“Girl, what? It’s three in the morning, who the fuck are you talking about?”

“This dude in your post. He’s touching all up on you. Who is he?”

“What post, Paige?” I mumble groggily.

“Instagram, bro, keep up.”

“I promise you there is no one groping me on my Instagram, now go to sleep.”

“Hold up,” she tells me. I hear rustling on the other side of the line and I groan.

“Right here. Second slide. Guy’s got his hands on you and shit.”

I wrack my brain, too lazy to go look. “Is he blonde?”

“Yes. I know you got a thing for blondes-”

“Fuck off, Paige.”

“But you are so out of this dude’s league.”

“Thank you, Paige,” I mumble tiredly.

“I’m serious, who is this guy?”

“He’s from my International Turmoil and Conflict Resolution class, Paigey. His name is Luke.”

“Your what?”

“It’s a class for my major. Don’t worry, he asked me out and I turned him down.”

“He what?”

“Dude, keep up,” I whine, burying my head in my pillow.

“Did you fuck him?” she demands.

“What the fuck?” I shoot back, too tired to deal with her bullshit.

“I’m coming down there.”

“Huh?” Then the line clicks. She can’t be serious, right?

It turns out she is very, very serious. I’m awoken the next morning by a loud banging on my apartment door. My teammate Kara peeks her head out of her room and sees me running to open it. “Are you expecting someone?” she asks sleepily. “Not that I know. I got it, though,” I tell her.

I open the door to a very frazzled and tired-looking Paige Bueckers. She holds her car keys in one hand, and her backpack is balanced on one shoulder. Her hair is down, and she’s dressed in a muscle tee and sweats. I blink, then gape. “Can I help you?” I demand.

She shoves into my apartment, dropping her backpack and keys on my counter before taking my face in her hands and swallowing my lips with hers. I gasp lightly, and she slips her tongue into my mouth. “Fuck, I missed you,” she groans. I let her back me towards my room, lips still devouring mine. “Do you always look this sexy in the morning?” she mumbles against my mouth, opening the door to my room. She pushes me onto the bed, towering over me.

I recover from my shock at this point, and place a hand on her stomach to halt her. Her muscles contract under my fingers as she catches her breath. “Paige, what are you doing here?” I pant out. She weaves her hand into my hair, pulling me back by my scalp before smirking at me. “I already told you. I missed you.” I raise an eyebrow. “You drove an hour because you missed me?” I demand. She leans down, ghosting her lips over mine again. It takes everything I have not to pull her to me and kiss her senseless. “I drove an hour to fuck the shit out of you, but you’re holding me up.” I shove her away, huffing. “You cannot just show up-”

“Would you have said no?” she counters reasonably, plopping next to me and pulling me into her. I hesitate. “Well, no, but-” “Exactlyyy,” she crows. I shove her away again, standing up. I tug at the hem of my shirt (her shirt, fuck me), pushing the waves of my hair up out of my face. “You’re wearing my shirt,” she observes, sitting criss-cross. I frown at her. “And?” She grins. “I want it back.”

I feel myself getting really pissed now. “You’re not funny,” I bite. She leans back on her hands, eyes roving up and down my body, her bottom lip tucking itself under her teeth. “A’ight, leave it on then,” she says, her voice low. I run my hands through my hair again and scoff. “Dude, what the fuck?” I snap. She looks taken aback. “You think you can just show up here and-and get in my pants? What’s wrong with you?” I demand, my voice rising.

Paige blinks. “You want me to buy you coffee first, or..?” I groan, covering my face with my hands. “No, Paige, I want you to be fucking normal.” She pulls a face at me. “What do you mean, normal?” 

I pace in front of her, crossing my arms, then uncrossing them. “We were friends before this, Paige. And we did normal friend stuff.”

“This is normal friend stuff.”

“Are you fucking joking?”

“I’m deadass.”

“This is not normal friend stuff. Are you high?”

“I wish.”

“Do not get cute with me right now.”

“I don’t know why you’re acting like you’re not the one who started this.” Paige’s tone is cold.

“Excuse you?”

“Maybe my memory’s a little off, but you’re the one who offered to finger me on the bus, right?”

“Because I thought you could handle it. This is supposed to be friends with benefits. That means we keep being friends. And we watch fucking movies and go to fucking parties, and you treat me like you’ve treated me for the past eight years, Paige. I’m not just some fuck-buddy”

“Well, I’m sorry, Laila. I’m so fucking sorry that I can’t treat you normally, because the second I see you, my brain goes blank. All I can think about is fucking you. I’m sorry that the second I thought someone else had their hands on you, I couldn’t see straight-”

“You don’t own me.”

“You’re still mine.”

We’re chest to chest at this point, breathing hard. Her eyes are locked on mine.

“What are you saying, Paige?” I whisper.

Her eyes dart away. She licks her lips. “Paige?” I push. 

“I’m sorry, Laila,” she whispers, eyes darting back to mine. “I should’ve stayed in Storrs.”

Then she’s walking out of my room, and I’m chasing her into the hallway, watching her grab her bag and her keys and walk out of my apartment door.

I cry so hard that night that my head hurts.

_________

“Laila, you have to come out of there.”

I suppose I should show some appreciation that Azzi and Ice drove all the way from Storrs to see me. “No, I don’t!” I call back. “You have to eat, at least.” Azzi sounds tired. “I have a lifetime supply of hot chips in here.” “That is not real food!” Azzi exclaims. The truth is that my eyes are too puffy and my head hurts too much from crying to leave my room right now. 

“Please, just talk to us?” Azzi pleads. I hesitate. “Okay. Come in.” I hear the door click open, and shift in bed to watch the two of them file in. Ice takes one look at me and immediately takes a seat on the bed, pulling me into her. I feel my eyes well up with tears again. “What happened, baby?” she asks, rubbing my side soothingly.

I sniffle. “Nothing. I just hate,” I hiccup. “Fighting with Paige.” Azzi rolls her eyes. “What did she do this time?” she demands. “She didn’t d-do anything,” I say, voice hiccuping again. “She just, like, came down here… and then there was yelling, and…” I trail off, shaking my head as tears drip down my face. “What are you guys even doing here?” I ask, my voice choked. “You have to have practice or something.”

Azzi plops down on the other side of me. “You are important to us,” she tells me gently. She hesitates. “And Paige isn’t doing too hot either.” I roll my eyes. “Paige will find some other poor girl to lure into bed.” They’re both silent. Azzi opens her mouth and closes it. “Laila,” she starts quietly. “Azzi,” I respond absentmindedly, picking at my nails. “You know that you’re the only girl Paige has slept with more than once, right?” I take a moment to register her words, blinking. “What?”

Azzi nods, squeezing my arm. “She’s not really too experienced in this area.” I snort. “She seems experienced enough to me,” I mumble sarcastically. Azzi shakes her head. “What I mean is, if she’s hurt you, or said something she shouldn’t have, she really didn’t mean to.” I sniffle again. “Well, what she said was basically that she doesn’t value me as a friend anymore and basically just sees me as a booty call.” “Come on, Laila, that’s not true-” Azzi starts.

I stand up, suddenly angry. “No, it is true. And it’s so frustrating because even before we started whatever this is, I still wanted to be around her. All the time! I missed her and her stupid laugh and her stupid fucking jokes. How can she not see that I’ve been in love with her for the past eight fucking years?!” I’m yelling by the end, breathing hard. Then I slap a hand over my mouth. Azzi and Ice’s eyes are wide.

“You’re… in love with Paige?” Azzi asks. “Fuck. No. Yes? Please don’t say anything to her,” I rush out panickedly. Azzi waves me away. “But you are?” I hesitate. “I… yeah. Yeah, I am.” “Oh, thank God,” says Ice. I blink. “What?” Azzi snorts loudly, then starts chuckling. Then the chuckling turns into laughter, and I’m even more confused than before.”Oh, God, you’re both stupid,” she gasps through her giggles. I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at her. “Explain yourself,” I bite out.

Ice is laughing, too, covering her mouth. Azzi finally calms down, wiping at her eyes and giving me a look. “Laila, Paige is head over heels for you,” she forces out, still shaking with mirth. I gape. “Are you high?” I demand. Ice butts in. “No, she’s right. Paige is so down bad for you it’s not even funny.” I scoff, feeling my chest tighten. “If Paige did like me like that, she would’ve done something about it way back in high school.”

Azzi cocks her head. “Didn’t you just say you’ve been in love with her for eight years?” I hesitate. “Yeah…” “And you didn’t do anything about it in high school, did you?” Azzi reasons. I open my mouth, and shut it. “Well, no, but-”

“You’re coming back to Storrs with us,” Azzi says firmly. My mouth drops open again. “What? No, I have school-” “It’s a Saturday,” Ice interrupts. Azzi crosses her arms. “We will carry you out of here,” she tells me wearily. I shut my mouth. “Just let me pack,” I mumble.

______

I’m sitting on Azzi’s couch, waiting for her to get back home. She had promised me that I wouldn’t have to talk to Paige until tomorrow before going to practice. Luckily, Paige doesn’t room with Azzi, so I would have no chance of running into her there. I’m watching New Girl on the TV, clad in one of Paige’s USA Basketball t-shirts (I really need to buy my own clothes), when I hear the door click open. 

“That was quick,” I say to who I think is Azzi, eyes still on the screen. 

“Laila.” I freeze.

I scramble off of the couch, turning around. “Paige,” I breathe out. She looks awful, probably not much better than I look right now. Her eyes are swollen and tinged red, her hair messy and covered by the hood of her sweatshirt. Her cheeks look sunken in. “What are you doing here?” I ask, shuffling my feet before crossing my arms over my chest self-consciously.

She laughs hollowly, her eyes sweeping over me. “Feel like I should ask you that,” she rasps out. “Yeah, um, Azzi brought me up,” I explain. “Paige, are you okay?” I ask. “Me? I’m chilling,” she replies drily. “You didn’t respond to my texts,” I say softly, tracking her with my eyes as she takes a step towards me. I stay planted.

“Was tryna give you your space,” she murmurs, moving even closer. “What’s going on with you, Paigey?” I ask, concern lacing my tone. She’s inches away now. “I wish I could tell you,” she breathes out. “Let me help, please,” I murmur, meeting her eyes. She licks her lips, her chest nearly flush against mine. “Do you have any fucking idea how badly I want to kiss you right now?” she whispers, eyes darting between my mouth and my eyes. My heart stutters. 

She sighs, leaning her forehead against mine and closing her eyes, cradling my face with her hands. “Paige, please, just talk to me,” I beg softly. She shakes her head. “I’m not good with- with feelings, Laila.” There’s a hammering in my chest. “I just know that I want to be around you all the time. And it’s been that way since we’ve known each other.” Her breath is warm against my face, tinged with mint.

“Then in high school, we were, like… you were my first kiss. And I realized that I didn’t want to kiss anyone the way I kissed you.” “Paige-”

“And then on the bus, when you asked… fuck, Laila, I was dreaming about you. It’s always you.”

“Then it was just any excuse to touch you, to feel you, hold you, kiss you. I thought if it was just fucking, it wouldn’t mean anything. And I know it didn’t to you, but it did to me.” 

“Paige-”

“You don’t have to say anything-”

“Paige, I’m in love with you.”

I watch her brow furrow, feel time stop, before her eyes snap open. Blue, clear, watercolor eyes.

“What?” she breathes.

I swallow, hard. “I’m in love with you,” I whisper. 

She shakes her head. “Don’t play with me,” she whispers back, voice cracking.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My eyes sting. “I’m sorry-”

Her mouth crashes to mine, kissing me feverishly. I respond in kind, throwing my arms around her neck, kissing her desperately. “Say it again,” she mumbles against my mouth. “I love you,” I gasp as she backs me into the wall. “Good,” she bites, nipping at my lip, shoving my legs apart with her knee as she continues kissing me hungrily.

She grabs my hips harshly, pushing me down onto her knee. My breath stutters at the sudden friction against my clit. “Not that I’m not enjoying this,” I pant. “But just to be clear…” She bites her lip, grinding me down against her knee, before attaching her lips to my neck. “Oh, God,” I whimper. “Yes, Laila, I’m in love with you, too,” she whispers against my skin. “Okay, good,” I laugh breathily, entwining my fingers in her hair. 

Paige pulls back from me and I whine at the loss of contact between my legs. “How pissed do you think Azzi would be if I fucked you on her couch?” she asks. I raise my eyebrows. “Reasonably, very.”

She grabs my hand. “We’re going to mine, then.”

It doesn’t take long for us to ride the elevator up to Paige’s, but it feels like eons. The second we’re through the door, though, she has her hands on me again, tugging my shirt off. “Quit wearing my clothes,” she chides, tossing the garment to the floor. “You always take them off anyway,” I snipe. She places her hands on my ass, gesturing for me to jump.

I do, and she immediately connects our lips again. “Remember… how I said… I wanted to fuck you in the shower?” she asks between kisses. “Do it,” I pant, kissing her harder. It isn’t long before our clothes are strewn about her room and she’s shoving me into the shower, following close after. I run my hands up and down her torso, smirking up at her. Her body really is perfect, lean and long and toned. “Have you always been this fine?” I ask, mocking the question she asked me in the pool. She kicks my legs apart. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” she asks. “Why don’t you make me?” I murmur.

She responds by smirking and swiping two fingers down my folds. I gasp, head smacking against the tile of her shower. “Shit.” She slides her fingers in easily, long fingers wrapping around my throat to bring my eyes back to hers. I whimper as she pumps her fingers in and out, thumb teasing at my clit. “Can you take another one?” she asks. I moan softly, biting my lip. I already feel so filled. “Yeah, you can. Take it,” she continues, adding a third.

I fall against her as her third finger stretches me out, gripping at her shoulders and groaning. “Holy, shit, Paige,” I force out, biting hard at her shoulder. “You’re doing so good, baby. Come on. Just a little longer,” she coaxes, pushing me back against the shower wall and cupping my face, drawing my eyes to hers again. “You gonna come? Gonna come on my fingers?” she asks, smirking. I shake my head, trying to hold back. “Come on, baby. Let go for me,” she coos, kissing me softly.

I moan into her mouth as my orgasm washes over me, and she swallows every noise I make hungrily. “So pretty when you come,” she mumbles against my mouth. I pant hard, pulling away from her to lean against the shower wall. “Shit,” I breathe out. 

Her arms circle my waist, pulling me away from the wall and into her as she looks down at me. “Damn, I love you,” she says, grinning. I smile tiredly, reaching up to loop an arm around her neck and bring her lips to mine. “You’re okay, I guess,” I giggle, kissing at the corner of her mouth. Then I press a kiss to her jaw, her neck, her clavicle.

I wrap my lips around her breast and suck hard, tongue flicking at her nipple. Her hands find my shoulders as I drop to my knees. “You don’t have to…” 

I cock my head, licking my lips. “But you’re so pretty when you come,” I say innocently, echoing her words. Then I sink my tongue deep into her cunt.

______

“Come back to bed.”

“In a minute.”

“Please, baby.”

“Don’t get cute. It’s not gonna work.”

“I’m cold, though.”

I throw a blanket at Paige. “There.”

She pouts from where she’s sitting on the bed. “You’re no fun.”

I place my pen between my teeth, typing a question out quickly onto my laptop and leaning down to scribble a note for myself hurriedly on a legal pad. I feel Paige’s hands land on my shoulders, soothing up and down my arms. She presses a kiss to my temple. 

“You work too hard.” I shake my head. “Not hard enough.” The pressure of being in my junior year and about to apply to law school is really getting to me. “I think you need a break, baby,” Paige whispers in my ear. “Just lay down for a minute.” I yawn, scribbling another note to myself on a Post-It. “Okay, just a minute,” I relent.

I let Paige lead me to the bed and guide me to her chest, my ear pressed to her heartbeat. “I love how dedicated you are,” she mumbles, “but sometimes, you work so hard that it worries me.” I hum, feeling my eyes flutter as she inches her hand under my oversized shirt, rubbing soothing circles on my bare back. “Have to go… Harvard Law,” I say in between yawns. “Shhh… don’t put so much pressure on yourself,” she whispers. “You put pressure on yourself,” I mumble back sleepily.

“Nothing is worth your sanity,” she says firmly, stroking my hair with her other hand. I shift so that I can look up at her, smiling tiredly. I meet her blue eyes, fringed with long, blonde lashes. “You’re so pretty,” I smile up at her. I feel her laughter rumbling in her chest. “You’re tired,” she responds.

“No, really,” I mumble, letting my eyes trail over her face. I trace the tip of her nose with my finger absentmindedly. “Thanks, Laila,” she chuckles low under her breath, grinning down at me. My eyes flutter closed and she shakes me awake immediately. “Hey, hey, you gotta do skincare first. Or you’ll give me shit for it tomorrow,” she urges, rolling out from under me. I reach for her absentmindedly, then sit up, yawning again. Paige disappears into her bathroom, then re-emerges with my toiletry bag in hand. “You should just leave your stuff here, bro, I’ll clear a drawer or something,” she remarks as she walks towards the bed. I watch her lithe figure approach. “You’re, like, really tall,” I observe.

Paige raises an eyebrow. “You think so?” She muses. I nod thoughtfully, letting her wet a cotton pad with makeup remover and swipe it on my face, removing the remnants of blush. “I like that about you,” I say matter of factly. She wipes the pad over my mouth and I stick my tongue out at her, bringing my knees to my chest. She takes out the jade roller and begins applying serum to my face with it. I raise my eyebrows, a little impressed.

“Oh yeah? What else do you like about me?” Paige asks slyly. I tilt my head thoughtfully, wincing when she pats cold moisturizer onto my face. “I like your eyes,” I hum, tracking them as they rove over my face. “Your shoulders,” I say, my voice softer now. “My shoulders?” she asks, laughing slightly. I shrug. “You have a nice laugh,” I add. She fights a smile, closing my various containers and placing them back into the bag. 

“Really? ‘Cause Azzi says I laugh like a horse,” she tells me. I pause for a moment. “Actually, a little,” I admit. “Oh, my God. Y’all are so fake,” she protests, smacking me with a pillow. “But it’s so infectious,” I continue indignantly, holding my hands up to defend myself. “Like, when you laugh, I want to laugh,” I say earnestly.

Paige wrinkles her nose. “You’re corny,” she teases, flopping back onto the bed. I scoot around to face her, sitting criss-cross. I grab the pillow from her hand and smack her with it. “I can’t help it,” I tease back. Paige looks down at me, inching her hand under her shirt and resting it on her stomach. “You want to know something?” she asks quietly, her blue gaze piercing.

I nod, shifting closer. “Promise you won’t freak out,” she says. Of course not.” She hesitates. “You know how… back in high school, we would, like, experiment? Or whatever?” I nod, urging her to go on. “I had a crush on you then, too,” she admits sheepishly. I snort out loud. Then I snort again, feeling a chuckle emerge, and then I start laughing. “What is funny?” Paige demands.

I shake my head, waving my hands in front of me in a calm-down motion, still laughing loudly. “No, it’s just…” I sigh with laughter, wiping at my eyes. “That’s funny that you say that because you had me with that stupid pick up line you used,” I force out, quieting my laughter. She raises her eyebrows. “No shot ‘you’re the only ten I see’ worked on you, Laila. That’s crazy,” she says, completely deadpan. I flop down onto the bed next to her, wiping away my tears and calming myself down.

“I probably just thought you were hot,” I admit, turning on my side to face her. She mimics me, turning on her own side. “Didn’t know you had a thing for white girls,” she smirks. I groan, smacking her as she pulls me into her by my waist, her arms wrapping around me and sneaking under my shirt again. “Do not put that on me,” I mumble as she presses her mouth to mine, feeling myself grin stupidly into the kiss.“You should have said something,” Paige whispers. I toy with the hair surrounding her face. “You should have said something,” I accuse. She scoots closer, pressing into me further. “We were so stupid,” she mumbles. I nod, laughing lightly. “I would have been with you in a heartbeat back then,” I tell her quietly. Her eyes flicker between mine, breath hitching. “And now?” she asks. I shake my head, biting back a smile. “I’m still all yours, Paige Bueckers,” I whisper. She kisses me again, softly, insistently. “Corny,” I hear her mumble again, and I laugh against her lips.

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

masterlist

paige bueckers

ANYONE ELSE

playlist

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

part 8

epilogue!

__________

CLEAN UP NICE

part 1

part 2

__________

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

playlist

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

part 8

__________

one part fics

ATTENTION

NOT MY TYPE

I'LL DO IT MYSELF

MINE

TEAM NERD

MORE THAN THAT

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

paige gf headcannons, some 18+:

- calls u her good luck charm, doesn’t miss a shot when youre watching she’s too proud

- thanks u every time u watch her play as if that’s not your job as her gf. she’s so so grateful it means the world to her every single time

- looks for u in the crowd whenever she’s able. especially when she scores like she’s looking for your nod of approval

- extremely touchy, especially when she’s had something to drink u literally need to pry her hands off of u at the bar bc she’s ready to go at it right there

- loves to whisper the most vile shit in your ear about what she wants to do to u at the most inappropriate times. it’s actually a problem she will get u so worked up in public and then leave u high and dry but it’s soooo hot

- talks u through it i can’t emphasize this enough she’s incredibly talkative when she tops sometimes u literally have to tell her to shut up

- but when she bottoms it’s the complete opposite. so needy and can’t seem to get a word out in awe of u

- she is such a giver in bed, has literally made you come five times in one night before because she’s so obsessed with how u look and feel when u orgasm

- she likes to go down on u but will always stop right before u come so she can be next to u and whisper in ur ear the entire time

- calls u her sweet girl and knows the effect it has on u and uses it to her advantage

- as active as she is, her favorite thing to do with u is stay in all day in bed. nothing makes her happier than having u all to herself for an entire day

- big fan of cheeky banter, will flirt by making fun of u for literally anything but it’s all in good fun and u know it

- gets super embarrassed when her teammates tease her about u. like one time she left an embarrassing amount of hickeys on your neck and got called vampire paige for the entire week

- she’s obsessed with u and everything u do. texts u constantly and wants to know how you’re doing. also made u share her location with u for “safety reasons”, but u know she just wants to know what you’re doing and where u are at all times

- possessive, wants u all to herself if anyone tries to flirt with u when she’s around she will literally make out with u and grab ur ass right in front of them

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

༉‧₊˚.✧˚ · .˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆.ೃ࿐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

→ PAIGE BUECKERS :

↳ oneshots/mini-series:

ׂ╰┈➤ late nights (summary): you and paige can’t seem to fall asleep

ׂ╰┈➤ you belong to me (1) (2) (summary): another guy at a party is dancing with you and paige gets jealous (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ awakening (summary): paige realizes she’s in love with you, but she’s never liked a girl before.

ׂ╰┈➤ nice surprise (1) (2) (summary): paige takes an interest in you on kk’s live and asks you out on a date

ׂ╰┈➤ early morning (summary): paige craves you in the morning (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ are you done yet? (summary): paige doesn’t like your attitude and decides she needs to do something about it (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ focus on me (summary): paige is jealous of how close you and kk are

ׂ╰┈➤ taking care of you (summary): you come home drunk and paige takes care of you

ׂ╰┈➤ gentle loving (summary): you help paige unwind after a game night

ׂ╰┈➤ marks of my love (summary): you give paige hickeys and the team teases her about it. (18+)

↳ series:

ׂ╰┈➤ she loves me, she loves me not (summary): to make your toxic ex regret her choices, you let her believe you’ve moved on with paige. it starts out innocent, but what happens when it gets more complicated?

→ part one (beginning of the end)

↳ headcannons:

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a sleepy gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a famous gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a hockey gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a swifite gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a short basketball player gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a figure skater gf

༉‧₊˚.✧˚ · .˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆.ೃ࿐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

→ KATE MARTIN

↳ oneshots/mini-series:

ׂ╰┈➤ all mine (summary): kate gets jealous when another girl dances with you at the bar

ׂ╰┈➤ uh oh! (summary): you and kate can’t seem to keep away from each other, even after saying you will.

↳ series:

ׂ╰┈➤ meet the martins

→(part 1) (summary): you meet kate’s family for the first time.

↳ headcannons:

ׂ╰┈➤ kate with a makeup loving gf

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

✵✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩⊹ ⋆｡˚⋆ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part one ; beginning of the end

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

you didn’t care when you found out your ex got a new girlfriend. you were completely over her and her antics, realizing in the last few months of your relationship how utterly exhausting it was. it wasn’t until you found out that her new girlfriend was the girl she cheated on you with that you cared.

it was stupid really, the whole situation. your ex girlfriend, bianca, cheated on you whilst out at a party, you hadn’t gone, opting to instead watch one of paige’s home games with her team. you met paige your freshman year, instantly growing an inseparable bond with her. she was absolutely your closest friend, much to bianca’s disliking. you chopped it up to the fact that bianca wasn’t a fan of any of your friends and left it at that.

when bianca tried justifying her cheating on you because of your close relationship with paige, it took you off guard.

2 MONTHS AGO

you were waiting for your girlfriend to show up. your heart was racing and your breath uneven but honestly, it was long overdue. it had been months since you actually shared a happy moment with bianca, easily able to find more enjoyment in your friends.

you’d found out from a close friend that she had cheated on you at least once, maybe more. your friend spotted her at a party with a girl, kissing and grinding on each other. it was all making sense to you now. the way she was almost too close, too clingy. as if she was overcompensating for a mistake. a huge mistake.

“babe? what’s up?”

“why’d you fuck another girl at a party two weeks ago?”

she went silent, eyes wide with shock. her face spoke for her, affirming that what you thought to be true actually was. even though your relationship had been rocky, especially towards the end, it still broke your heart. she was your high school sweetheart. she even committed to uconn just for you.

it meant fuck all now.

“don’t act like you’re so innocent, princess.”

she doesn’t even try to deny it, immediately spitting back at you. you’re not even sure what she’s referring to, but it looks like she believes it.

“what are you talking about?”

“really?!” she scoffs, “don’t act like you don’t know what i’m talking about. i know about you and paige, how you’ve been sneaking around behind my back.”

“are you fucking dumb?! paige and i are just friends bianca! oh my god- even when you know you’ve done something wrong you can’t admit it.”

you were walking around the corner of the counter when she grabbed you hard. her aggressive behavior was nothing new, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. part of you was wishing it would work out, but a greater part of you was glad she’d finally pushed you over the edge.

“let go of me and get the hell out.”

“excuse me?!”

“i said, get the fuck out, and don’t fucking come back.”

PRESENT DAY

you, paige, and some of your mutual friends were out at your favorite bar. it was a friday night and none of you had anything better to do.

you’d done some rotations: drinking, dancing, singing, sitting down, dancing again, but now you were back to sitting. you took a seat next to paige and she was thankful for that, but you hardly acknowledged her.

after bianca’s excuse for cheating on you being your close relationship with paige, you had distanced yourself considerably. you stopped showing up randomly to her dorm and practices, stopped calling, and stopped asking to hang out too. paige knew you and bianca broke up and kept telling herself you were just trying to get over that. occasionally she’d reach out to ask you if you were doing okay, sometimes it’d take you more than a day to answer.

it hurt paige more than it should’ve and she knew that. for years, ever since she’d met you, she’s had feelings for you. even when she tried to avoid them, you were all she could think about. it was difficult considering you had a psycho girlfriend that you refused to let go of until recently. even now that you were single it was no use, not if you were going to treat her like she didn’t exist.

you hadn’t noticed bianca and her new girlfriend walk in, too enamored by the bubbles in your drink. paige noticed though, watching the way your ex’s eyes scanned the room. paige looked away before she got caught staring, settling her elbows back on the bar.

“have you been having a good night?” paige asked just to get some conversation flowing with you. she missed being so close to you, even if she knew she always wanted more. she’d rather settle for a friendship with you than have nothing at all.

“s’been good. might go home soon though,”

“want me to take you home princess?” it was a teasing nickname that she called you, an old inside joke. when bianca heard it she decided to start calling you that too unironically, completely unaware of the joke.

“i think-”

“princess.”

bianca’s voice cut through the atmosphere like a sharpened knife, offering a completely different tone than the way paige said it. her new girlfriend must’ve run off somewhere, seeing as it was only her that had approached you. she took the barstool next to you, sliding her chair to face you. she looks unimpressed and expectant, not surprised to see paige lingering by your side.

“i need to talk to you.”

“talk to your new girlfriend. y’know, the one you cheated on me with.”

“she’s not my girlfriend” —another toxic lie “i just want to talk to you.”

“no.”

“princess-”

“fuck you.” you seethe out a her, hoping it’s enough to keep her quiet. unfortunately though, it isn’t.

“don’t talk to me like that.”

you try avoiding bianca, turning to paige and muttering a quick ‘can we go.’ it’s difficult to hear you but she does, standing up and pushing her chair in. bianca loathes paige, always has. as soon as you met paige all you wanted to do was talk about her, hang out with her, study with her, and bianca couldn’t stand it.

“and you tried calling me dumb when i found out you two were hooking up behind my back,” she scoffs as if it’s obvious.

paige’s eyebrows knit in confusion, you never mentioned that part. paige doesn’t know what made bianca think that, but she secretly wishes there was some truth to it, as bad as it may be. even when doing something she knows is wrong, paige has never regretted a second spent with you.

you knew you were probably too drunk to make a decision this big. as soon as the thought popped into your head you favored it, wanting to get back at bianca for all she put you through. you didn’t even give it a second thought, your mouth running faster than any of your cognitive abilities at the moment.

“guess you were right, but hey— she treats me better than you ever did.”

both bianca and paige are shocked, completely taken aback by your statement. what were you getting at?

“so what- you’re dating now?”

“yep. thanks for helping me realize i could do so much better.”

before you have time to show your fleeting confidence and the fact that you just lied straight through your teeth, you grab paige’s hand and walk off. you’re honestly not sure how she’ll react or how you’ll move from here.

either of you say a word until you’re in the silent safety of her car. she turns to face you, a blank expression written across her face. it makes it difficult to figure out what’s going on in her mind. you wish you could tell, it’d probably make things easier. you can tell that she’s a bit flustered, but maybe that’s just because of how hot it was inside.

“paige?”

“yeah?”

“i know this is probably going to be a really weird question and maybe the question itself is too late because i’ve already dug us into this hole but i swear you don’t have to go through with it..”

“okay..”

“will you, um.. will you be my fake girlfriend?”

she’s conflicted, torn between her better judgement and overall feelings for you. her body surges with anger at the way bianca talked to you tonight. but her body also swells with pride and attraction after hearing you say those things about dating her, even if she knows it’s not real. she wants it to be real so desperately and she’s knows she’s already made up her mind without needing to think it through.

one hand is on the steering wheel and the other drags itself down her face, questioning internally if she’s really going to go through with this. her silence settles on you, panic rising as you realize maybe you’ve just ruined your friendship. or what was left of it.

“you can say no obviously-”

“i’ll do it.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟׂׂૢ

UMMM i’ll spell check this tmr

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

i kinda don’t.

THIS IS A SERIES YALL

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

Yearning Allegations - Pt.3

Part 1 here / Part 2 here

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn

Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time, is there any chance she likes you too?

It's been 2 weeks of awkward silence.

Ever since Paige came over the other day, she's either been ghosting your texts entirely or giving you short replies followed up with excuses about how she's really busy.

The biggest game of the season is coming up - Uconn vs Iowa. Everyone's been talking about it, and you know the team is training super hard for the game- KK and Nika won't stop blowing your phone up with Uconn shit. Despite all this, you just can't shake the feeling something is wrong between you two.

So that's why you're walking down to the school gyms at 9 pm, hoping to find Paige practicing late like she does when she's stressed out.

The halls seem so empty and lifeless without her constant chatter and her melodic laughter. You're fidgeting with your clothes, hoping the sinking feeling in your stomach will dissipate soon.

In the gym, you spot Paige on the farside of the court, shooting basket after basket. Her brows are furrowed with concentration, sweat beading on her forehead.

"Paige!" You shout as you lightly jog over.

Paige glances at you and then takes another shot, which just bounces off the backboard with a loud thud. She curses and grabs it on its way down before replying to you.

"Hey y/n, what are you doing here?"

You're anxious, eyes rovering over her face, but she won't meet your gaze.

"Is.. is everything okay between us?" You say, hesitantly stepping closer to her.

Paige has stopped throwing the ball, instead just holding it under one arm with her eyes trained on the floor.

She finally looks at you, a mix of emotions written all over her face.

"Everything's cool, yeah.. but be honest.. Did I.. make you uncomfortable the other day?"

"Of course not, why??" You're surprised by her words, confused by where she's going with this.

Paige's shoulders relax for a moment at your response, but her expression remains conflicted.

"I was just wondering if I took it too far the other day.." She trails off, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Too far?" You breathe out, hardly daring to consider what she means by that.

"Yeah.. I just.."

Paige seems to struggle to get the words out, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"I know you don't want me like how I want you, and I was worried I had made you uncomfortable or something."

Paige wants you? The words ring in your mind.

"What? What do you mean?" You're in disbelief. What is she talking about?

Paige sighs, throwing her basketball into the lined baskets lined by the gym walls before she continues on.

"Y/n, I've liked you for years. I've tried to make that clear, hoping you might take the hint or say something, but you never did. I didn't want to ruin what we have- but the other day made me feel so.." She trails off, "It's just hard to be friends with you when I want more than that. And I'm really sorry for ghosting you, that wasn't cool."

Paige runs her hands through her hair anxiously while your heart strains in your chest.

"And wait- that's not to say I don't want to be friends with you - I love being friends with you, I love you-"

Your heart is pounding in your ears, heart registering her words, and you just can't hold back anymore. You close the distance between you two, lunging for her, kissing her like she's your lifeline.

Paige is shocked for a second, before responding immediately, her hands grabbing your waist, pulling you in further.

It's all you've imagined, yet somehow better. Your hands are tangled in her hair, tugging lightly as her lips desperately press against your own. Paige kisses you, soft and open mouthed, but like a woman starved. You're enveloped in nothing but the sweet scent of her perfume while your heart feels like it's exploding, butterflies flittering wildly around in your stomach.

When you break apart, you both wear matching relieved grins. You swear to yourself that Paige's eyes have never looked more soft than in this moment, the love within them so obvious to you now. Her cheeks are flushed, more pink than you've ever seen them, her eyes alight with an excitement you've only ever attributed to the look she gets when she wins games.

Your next words tumble out in a rush, eager to tell her how you feel.

"I love you, Paige.. I've loved you since high school. I've loved growing up with you, learning more about you over the years, and getting to watch you do what you love. I love the way you care so deeply about people - about your fans, your team, your family. I love how strong you are, persevering through everything just to pursue your dreams."

You laugh, the words freeing to finally say aloud.

"I love all the little things about you, like the way you're so stupidly competitive about everything, whether that's shooting hoops or playing video games, I love your silly cocky nature and all your stupid jokes, your dramatic ass- bro can't even take medicine without taking a solid 10 minutes to complain- and even all the ways you annoy me on purpose just because you know they make me laugh nonetheless. I always feel safe with you, understood in a way I've never felt with other people.. I.. just.. so many things, Paige."

Paige's response is barely above a whisper,

"Why... why didn't you say anything?"

She's running her hands through her hair again, continuing.

"I just thought you didn't like me, like I hoped you did but I was never really sure. That's why I didn't say nothing"

You smile at her,

"I didn't wanna lose you by saying I liked you in case you didn't feel that way, I don't know. Maybe we both did the same thing, haha." You start trailing off awkwardly, suddenly feeling shy with the way she's looking at you.

Paige just grins, pulling you back into her by the hips, bringing you two face to face. She tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear before she rests her hands on your waist.

"Good thing I do, cause now I get to ask you to be my girl." Paige is grinning so widely you just grin back, happiness manifesting as butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

"Pfftt.. I was always your girl. " You stick your tongue out at her, and she throws an arm over your shoulder in response.

"Damn y/n tryin rizz me up!?" Paige laughs at her own joke before continuing,

"Anyway, come on, let's go home."

She holds the gym doors open for you, and you're struck with a sense of deja vu, heart full.

"Well.. I mean, it worked."

You smirk at her with that.

Paige just bites her lip in response, waggling her brows and rubbing her hands together at you.

You groan as you both walk to her dorm,

"Not the rizz hands!"

All you hear is her resulting laugh.

"Always the rizz hands! Come on y/n you love it, clearlyyyy."

You find yourself unable to stop smiling at her, but you attempt an eye roll to keep up appearances anyway.

"You're all mine now," you say, shoving her slightly.

Paige smiles back, love in her gaze.

"I was always yours y/n."

---

Authors Note: This is the final chapter, I love soft Paige. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Thanks for reading! <3

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

# IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

pairing: paige bueckers x ex-gf/iowa!reader

word count: 4880

warnings: suggestive content, arguing

summary: your "rivalry" with a certain uconn blonde has its speculation, but no one knows what happened behind the scenes

from lani: why is every single thing ive posted based off of a song..anyways..hope yall enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it

AS YOU SLIP into your black jersey, adrenaline courses through your veins. you and your teammates have successfully carried iowa to the final four of march madness. you've all come this far and refuse to break the streak.

but similar to your previous game against lsu, there's a lot of speculation surrounding the tension on the court with uconn. people are going crazy over the paige bueckers and caitlin clark face-off, but they’re going even crazier over your own heated interactions with the blonde.

the internet has decided to constantly pit you two against each other after observing your intense taunting and confrontations in previous years. they believe that it’s merely competitive tendencies but they have no idea where it all actually stems from.

you haven’t always been a hawkeye. for your first two years of college, you were a husky through and through. the public knows this, of course, which adds to the stigma around your name. but after a season-ending injury, you decided you needed a change of pace and environment. it was nothing personal against your teammates, coach, or school in general, you just felt like uconn wasn't where you were supposed to be.

so after you were in the transfer portal, everyone went ballistic. there was a plethora of reactions - some encouraging and supportive, others targeted and calling you a "traitor."

that's what the public is aware of. but they have yet to discover the deeper scars.

"you gonna lock in, y/n?" one of your teammates asks from behind you. turning around, you are met with caitlin, the other hawkeye under extremely close observation tonight.

"i gotchu," you smirk, "what about you? you gonna carry the team again?”

"you already know," she says, mirroring your expression. the two of you have gotten very close over the past couple years, which honestly makes the whole paige situation worse as people make comments like "caitlin and y/n versus paige is crazy" or "ready for this 2v1 game tonight!” they piss all three of you off but really just add to the hype and buildup of the game.

soon enough, your coach is ushering all the girls out of the locker room and onto the court. screams and cheers fill your ears as the crowd observes your entrance. and damn, if your ego wasn't high before, it definitely was now.

the two sides of the arena were filled, one side a sea of navy and white, the other a myriad of gold and black. music blasts from the speakers and makes the walls shake with energy. as you make your way over to the bench, you raise your arms repeatedly to get the crowd going. gaining an immediate reaction, you smile big and put your hand to your ear to play into the praise.

your teammates shake their heads at your antics. they know how competitive you can get. you tend to interact with the crowd and cameras a lot, but no one (especially fans at home) complains.

the crowd before you quiets down for a split second as you focus back onto what your coaches are saying in the huddle. suddenly you hear echoes of booing and other taunts as everyone turns around to see the uconn girls run out excitedly. the last one to come out is none other than paige bueckers, blonde hair in her signature braids and ponytail immediately catching your eye.

part of the reason people always compare you to her is because of how similar you are. your game style, skill set, and energy has always resembled the husky's, but you never understood it until she does the exact same hand motions you did but to the uconn supporters.

as she turns away from the crowd, her eyes dart around to find yours, doing so in a matter of seconds. her icy blue eyes sending a chill down your spine and she hold intense contact. fuck. she knows exactly what she's doing. 

you can tell from the few seconds your eyes are glued to hers that she still wants you. you just know. there's too much emotion behind the stare, saying everything that needs to be said and more.

coach bluder gives the run-down on defensive assignments quickly and explains some of the plays. somehow, by some force of nature, you're stuck guarding the one person you were conflicted with: number 5, paige bueckers.

your teammates all turn to you as soon as the words leave your coach's mouth. they are well aware of your special history with the blonde as well as your complicated relationship now.

"you got that, y/n?" caitlin asks you.

"yeah," you shrug, "you don't have to worry about me. i'm good." and you meant it. you were sick of being compared to paige all the time and were ready to show people who's better.

did you still care for the girl? of course; you always have and always will. but will you let that get in the way of your winning streak? hell no.

the referee beckons each team to the center of the court for the tip-off. hannah sets herself up for the jump ball, standing across from aaliyah edwards on uconn's side. 

you confidently walk over to where paige is standing. your eyes meet hers once again as you wordlessly dap her up, offering a civil front. you already know you'll being seeing the clip on your feed a lot tomorrow morning.

despite the cordial interaction, your mind is running wild at the feel of paige's long fingers brushing against yours. you missed her like crazy, but were also upset with her for multiple different reasons. right now you were enemies, opponents, rivals. but in a few hours after the game? well you would have to wait and see.

the ref throws the ball in the air and aaliyah manages to get her fingers on the ball first to swat in her teammates' directions. uconn almost immediately turns it over due to paige missing kk's pass as the ball goes out of bounds. it's just too easy.

------

the buzzer sounds loudly, signaling the end of the second quarter and halftime. you and your teammates jog to the locker room, sweaty and out of breath. the score was currently 32-26 with uconn in the lead.

you had to admit, that definitely wasn't your team's best first half but you were ready to come back twice as hard.

"c'mon guys," lisa yells, "we gotta seriously up our game right now and fight against their defense. keep giving them as many fouls as possible.

"caitlin, we're gonna try to give you more threes, so everyone else, if caitlin has the ball set those screens, got it?"

you all nod wordlessly as you pay attention to her words. your coach turns to you, looking you directly in the eye, her stare deadly.

"y/n, you gotta push bueckers more, don't direct all your focus on getting cait the ball. really use that energy that i know you have."

"yeah i hear you," you pant as you wipe your forehead with a towel. 

one of the coaching assistants hands you a waterbottle, so you immediately squeeze the ice cold water into your mouth without putting the nozzle on your lips. it's a habit that you have whenever you're in a rush or busy thinking about something.

"and one more thing, y/n," you hear your coach call you before you make your way back on the court, "please, for the love of god, leave your emotions out of it tonight."

the words shoot a prick in your chest, not expecting such a direct statement. nonetheless, you nod firmly, agreeing with her as you jog to where your team is lingering.

you may or may not have had a few...touchy altercations with a certain number 5.

like in the middle of the first quarter...

------

"bueckers with the lay-up, does she get it? no! it is rebounded by l/n!"

your hands grasp the ball tightly under the net but before you can make your way over to the opposite side of the court, another set of hands on the ball stops you.

you look up to see paige also grabbing the ball as it sits in your hands, starting to fight to get it in her possession. with the two of you pulling back and forth, the refs whistle blows to put an end to the quarrel.

however, you two continue to push until one of your teammates wraps their arms around you to pull you off. walking away, you laugh, energized by the interaction. you put your hands up in surrender as kate releases you from her grip.

you turn your head back around to see that paige has also been forcefully pulled away by one of her own teammates with a similar expression on her face, clearly as equally as fired up as you.

------

and the middle of the second quarter...

------

"THREEEEEEE! Y/N L/N!"

you flex your arms and let out a proud yell. it's your 4th score of the night and you feel amazing. your teammates clamor over to you, patting you on your back and bumping you with their chests.

paige failed to block your attempt, putting her arms up and jumping but not being able to reach the ball before it falls in the net.

seeing her tough front falter for a second, you point a finger to her just to spice up the game a little more and get the crowd really going. she shakes her head and chuckles darkly, waving you off with a hand.

"did you see that? bueckers and l/n back at it again with their supposed rivalry, what a dynamic duo, am i right?"

------

time flies rapidly as the clock runs down. it's the last quarter of the game and tensions are at an all time high. with less than 10 seconds left, iowa has the lead 71-69. it's way too close for comfort.

everyone's on edge. the announcers narrating the game for folks at home, coaches, benched teammates, the audience on either side of the court.

when uconn forces a turnover, you stand out of bounds waiting to pass the ball in. 1.1 on the clock. paige stands with her back to you. no one could've predicted your next move. 

you take advantage of her guard let down and quickly bounce the ball off of her, chopping the time in half as she fails to catch it in time and lets it out of bounds once again.

you feel a second of remorse once you catch the defeated look on her face. but you couldn't let the game slip out of your hands that easily. not without a fight.

less than one second on the clock, there's no way for uconn to win. caitlin passes the ball to gabbie who simply throws it high in the air to run down the clock.

the buzzer sounds as you and your teammates run into a group hug, screaming and cheering. you have a small celebration before going to the handshake line. as you pass and commend the uconn coaches and players, you allow your fingers to linger on paige's for a second longer than others.

when she meets your eyes there’s a look of hurt apparent in them, yours filled with guilt. you know how important that game was to her, to her entire collegiate career. but this game was also important to you, she had to know that.

------

your teammates insisted on celebrating at a nearby bar and restaurant, feeling high off the recent victory.

you were obviously down to go with them, but decided to take a little extra time in the locker room showers just to get some peace and quiet to yourself. you tell the girls that you'll catch up in your own car.

so now you're changing into a fresh set of clothes in a dim, empty locker room. some people might find the setting eerie but you enjoy the stillness of it all, especially after the day you've had. 

you’re wearing a basic white crop top and a muted purple skirt, a thick black leather jacket draped over your shoulders to protect yourself from the cold evening air. as you grab your backpack and make your way out to the gym’s parking lot, you spot a familiar figure wandering around aimlessly.

of fucking course i'm left here with her, you think.

you let out an irritated sigh as you continue to rub a small towel against your head to dry your hair.

the sound of your shoes against the pavement catches paige's attention and causes her to turn around. when she observes your relaxed, freshly showered figure, her chest tightens. whether it's from hatred or attraction, she doesn't know.

"hey," she yells to you, stalking over.

you look up to her direction and laugh, "you look like a lost puppy, bueckers."

"damn," she says, "first you decide to beat me and now you're insulting me and calling me by my last name? way to kick me when i'm down, y/n.”

you try not to display how flustered you feel when she says your name like that, “i didn't decide to beat you, i just did. deal with it."

"attitude much? i'm just tryna be civil, ma, no need for the hostility."

that fucking nickname.

"did you need something from me? i'm just tryna meet up with the team so spit it out."

"you heading to the bar?"

"yes," you say skeptically, "how the hell do you know that?"

"i'm heading there too, dumbass," she replies.

"what the hell are you talking about?"

"your team invited mine to hangout," of course they did, "is that a problem?"

"might be," you respond shortly, "so why are you here if the rest of your team is at the bar?"

"i could ask you the same question, l/n," she mocks the way you say her last name.

"i asked you first."

"eager to hear me talk i see." before you can reject the idea she interrupts you, “it’s okay, i know how much you love my voice."

she's not wrong, of course, but you would never admit it to her face. you ignore the question with a roll of your eyes.

"i took a longer shower than everyone else,” you shrug, “told 'em i'll just meet them there. your turn."

she laughs nervously before answering, “uh, i was supposed to get a ride from azzi but i guess she forgot," she says as she looks around the empty parking lot. now it's your turn to tease her.

"that's crazy," you laugh and shake your head, "your own friends don't even wanna be around you."

"man, shut up," she scoffs.

there's a beat of silence before you begin to walk to your car, getting the hint that the conversation was over.

you hear paige groan behind you before asking, "yo..do you think you could give me a ride?"

the nerve.

"excuse me?" you say incredulously as you unlock your car door and slip into the driver's seat. the blonde jogs up to your car, resting an arm on the frame of your door. you become hyper aware of how close you are, and how good she looks.

for the first time since you started talking to her, you take in her appearance. she's wearing a light blue cropped tank top, almost like a sports bra, and dark gray distressed jeans. there's a white uconn hoodie in her hands.

the amount of skin exposed makes your body heat up. the way her arms are flexed against your car makes you think back to the many times they've been flexed underneath your weight.

“can i. get. a ride.” she staggers out, like it’s painful to ask you for a favor. you take advantage of her position immediately.

“i dunno, can you?” you smirk.

“i fucking hate you, do you know that?”

“i dunno, do i?”

“dude.”

you throw your head forward in a laugh, shoulders shaking at her irritation.

“you’re so easy to piss off, i love it.”

“yeah well there’s a lot of other things about me that i know you love but we don’t have to talk about that.”

“do you want a ride or not?” you deadpan, “’cause if you’re gonna act like this all night i don’t want you at the bar, bro.”

“‘bro’? that’s what we’ve come to? that’s even worse than just bueckers, y/n.”

“just shut up and get in the car.”

“yes ma’am,” she says with a mock salute as she closes your door and jogs around the front of the car to the passenger seat.

as you turn on the engine, paige settles into the spot next to you and immediately reaches for the aux cord .

“um,” you pause, “what are you doing?”

“blessing you with my awesome music taste? what do you think i’m doing?”

“absolutely not,” you say, “my car, my rules.”

“um, no. the ‘rule’ is that the passenger chooses the playlist while the driver sets up the queue. we’ve been over this.”

“okay but,” you start carefully, “that was when we were together.”

silence.

“so do you want the ‘late night drives’ playlist or the ‘oldies but goodies’ playlist?”

“what?”

“you heard me.”

she brushes over your comment painfully fast. you had no idea why. you refuse to leave it at that.

“can you just put on our playlist?”

more silence. you gotta be kidding me.

“i don’t-“

“don’t even try, paige, i know you still have it.”

“but-“

“don’t fight me on this. all i want is to celebrate with my team and get a drink so can you please hurry up so we can go?”

“shit,” you hear her say under her breath, “yeah.” she pushes her hips forward as she gets comfortable in the seat.

your eyebrows furrow at the reaction. this girl is so fucking complicated. you weren’t sure if you wanted to curse her out or take her right there.

———

“y/n!! you made it!” jada squeals as you walk into the bar, “and…paige? wait. are you two back together??”

“hell no.”

“definitely not.”

you and paige turn to each other.

“oookayy..” jada trails as she pulls you away from the blonde in the direction of where your team was sat.

the girls cheer your name as you take a seat next to caitlin. you can tell they’ve already had at least 2 drinks each.

“hey,” caitlin says with a warm smile, “you got some catching up to do. let’s go get you a drink.”

she ushers you to the bar where you are able to sit and observe the environment. the venue is fairly dark, the ceiling lights dimmed to a warm hue with a few candles on each table. the stools at the bar were a cold metal that gave you goosebumps. all the table booths have dark brown leather couches one side and wooden chairs with intricate designs on the other.

“so,” caitlin starts after she’s ordered you a drink, lord knows what it was, “i saw you and paige walk in together. that mean anything?”

“please,” you scoff, “i’m done with her, cait, like seriously.” she stays silent, waiting for you to continue, “i mean, she’s so annoying and cocky and confusing, it’s exhausting - i hate her.”

“you sure about that?”

“yes.”

“then why do you still put up with her?”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean,” she says as the bartender delivers two of the same drink, one for you and one presumably for caitlin, “just stop talking to her. ignore her.”

you pause to think. “but she’s always the one starting these dumbass petty fights.”

“then don’t answer her?”

“i have to.”

“and why is that?” she eggs you on, sipping on her drink.

“because,” you sigh, “i can’t let her win.”

“or,” caitlin smirks as the two of you get up to head back to your table, “you still like being around her.”

“as if.”

“okay. tell me this then - why do you two still smile at each other like nothing has changed?”

“we almost never see them, cait.”

“no, i know but…i saw the way you looked at her today. and i saw the way you looked at her when we played them in sophomore year. you still like her, y/n.”

you two have returned to your seats with the rest of the team. you find yourself looking for a particular blonde (again) across the room. the uconn girls were sitting at a similar table to the one you were currently at, just on the other side of the bar.

to your relief, caitlin drops the conversation to engage in one with kate about the game. you quietly sip on your drink as you continue to stare at paige. she’s smiling - laughing - with azzi and aaliyah. you missed them. you missed her. you didn’t acknowledge it until now, until caitlin knocked some sense into you. you did enjoy being around her, mainly because it reminded you of how it was before you transferred to iowa. even though your conversations consist of constant jabs and insults, it was better than radio silence.

but you also hated it. you hated how you couldn’t be with her like you used to. you hated how you left. you hated how she treated you when you left. you hated how she acted like nothing happened. that’s why you have to win every time you’re up against her - literally and figuratively.

paige scored 4 three-pointers in a game? you score 5. paige got 6 rebounds? you got 7. paige had 8 assists? you had 9. it wasn’t just for yourself, it was for the media. with how they constantly have a magnifying glass on your life, you can’t jeopardize your career. so you have to be better than her.

your jaw clenches at the thought of the pressure, the expectation. you down the rest of your way too light cocktail and make your way back to the bar for a stronger drink.

“hey,” you say to the bartender, “can i get a sex on the beach, please?” he nods with a polite smile as he walks away to make your order.

“still rockin with those?” you hear an all-too-familiar voice say.

“if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” you mutter, not bothering to turn to her.

she scoffs. what is her problem now? you think.

“you’re so damn predictable,” she laughs, “it’s hilarious.”

“at least i’m reliable,” you retort, “when’s the last time you had any stability in your life?”

“when i was with you,” she says immediately.

that makes you turn your head. you are greeted with paige’s cold eyes and an unreadable expression.

“what are you doing, paige? what are we doing?” you sound exhausted.

“you tell me. i never got a good explanation when you…left.”

“i tried. you wouldn’t let me. didn’t think you wanted to hear from me after our last conversation.”

“don’t pin this on me,” she says pointedly, “you left me.”

“i didn’t have a choice, paige, you have to understand that.”

“but did you have to leave me? you know we could’ve worked it out.”

“could we have?”

she sighs. the conversation has elevated quickly. you didn’t expect her to open up like this now, to bring all of this up now. maybe it was the ambient atmosphere or the influential alcohol, or both. the man behind the bar sets your drink down on a small napkin in front of you, but you decide against going back to your table.

“so…” she says quietly, “have you been seeing anyone? i know how the fans like to twist shit, but is any of it true?”

“wouldn’t you like to know,” you laugh.

“hey, i’m just tryna gauge where you’re at right now. scope out the competition, you know how it is.”

“‘scope out the competition���?”

she shrugs.

“have you been seeing anyone?” “have you heard that i’m seeing anyone?”

god, this girl could not give a simple answer to save her life. but two can play that game.

“maybe i have. maybe i haven’t. and maybe i’ve seen you with a certain husky named azzi?” you have no clue where you got this idea knowing damn well that they’re nothing more than friends.

“and what if i am? you jealous, ma?” they’re nothing more than friends…right?

“hilarious.”

“that’s not a no.”

“no, it’s not..” you mumble under your breath, turning away from her to avoid her burning stare.

“good.” what the hell is this girl getting at? her avoidant yet suggestive responses set something off in you. “you never answered my question.”

“i am with someone,” you lie through your teeth, wanting to get a reaction out of her.

her breath hitches, “who?” her tone is targeted with a hint of…anger?

“why do you care? you’re with azzi right?”

“i never said that.”

“but you didn’t deny it,” you point out, using her own tactics.

“i am now. i’m not with her. so who are you with?”

“i don’t need to tell you anything.”

“so you’re not with anyone?” she laughs. this girl.

“i am.”

“then tell me.”

“no.”

“fine. be like that,” and suddenly she’s pulling you up from the barstool and into a poorly-lit hallway.

“where are we going?” you demand as you two turn a corner, the only light is the distant hue from the main part of the bar.

“we need to talk about this.”

“talk about what?”

“this,” she motions between the two of you as she pushes you against a wall, one strong arm preventing you from leaving.

“there’s nothing to talk about.”

“i’m not gonna let you keep dodging this, y/n. you left me to go to whole different state with no explanation whatsoever.”

“because you ghosted me first! what was i supposed to do?”

“we were supposed to work it out. remember? when we were teammates on and off the court?”

“you shut me out.”

“because, y/n,” she sighs deeply, “i knew i couldn’t handle it if i had to say goodbye to you. i would’ve-“ she stops herself.

“you would’ve what?”

after about 10 seconds of silence, she whispers, “i would’ve begged you not to go - not to leave me.”

your eyes shoot to hers, but she’s looking down at the floor. her head is almost resting against yours as you observe her adamant yet vulnerable state. you’ve never seen her like this.

from what you’ve seen online, paige seemed to have the time of her life after you transferred. you assumed that she moved on so easily, so quickly. you didn’t consider that it was all just a front.

“paige,”

“what?” she barely gets out, still avoiding your eyes.

“look at me,” she doesn’t, “please.”

her head flies up at that, “what?” she repeats.

you don’t know what to say, you just needed to see her - really see her. her eyes are filled with such clear emotion yet you can’t put your finger on what she was feeling. from her body language you can tell that she misses you. and as you realize you subconsciously put your own hand on her waist, you body is telling you that you miss her too. 

you contemplate your next move for a second, questioning if all of this is worth it. but she’s worth it. in the time you’ve spent apart from her, you grew and matured. you also realize that you need her like you need oxygen. you come to the conclusion that you always have, but it took distance and space to accept it.

not wanting to get too in your head, you smash your lips onto hers as your shoulders instantly relax. you feel paige pause but eventually melt into the kiss, moving her hands up to the nape of your neck. you bring your other hand up to her wrist, resting it there as you relish in the feeling of her lips finally against yours after almost two years. you guide her hand down to your thigh as you move to grasp her shoulders. she glides over your upper thing, riding up your lilac skirt.

she breaks the kiss for a moment, “i’ve always loved you in purple.”

before she can resume the heated kiss, you push against her and observe your surroundings. to your left is the open area you just came from, all your friends oblivious to your activities. all the way down to your right is a door leading out to the back lot and a closer door - presumably a supply closet.

you weigh out your options: do you want to stop the interaction completely, drag her into your car all the way outside, or simply shove her into the closet and have your way with her?

smirking up at her, you pull her into the closet as she laughs at your desperation but follows you nonetheless. 

yes, there were still broken pieces in your relationship. yes, you have always claimed to hate each other. but no, you weren’t leaving without her, even if you had to use handcuffs.

she was never not yours, and you were never not hers.

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

˚❀˚ this is so john b and pope trying to be wingmen for jj (it’s totally working) ˚❀༉‧₊˚.

they spot you at a kegger before jj does, glancing at each other and silently agreeing to look extra friendly just in case you wanna say hi. in their attempt to keep an eye out for you, their not-so-subtle staring draws your attention. you lock eyes with them, and they freeze, not knowing what to do other than wave. you smile and wave back, finding it pretty endearing jj must’ve told his friends about you…

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

no thoughts, just the idea of jj maybank falling in love with the golden girl of kildare. she's from the cut, but she's a ray of sunshine. always willing to help. alway friendly. always giving out her signature smile because she never knew when someone needed one. always getting the best grades. i mean, she gives pope a run for his money. and then there's jj - a teenage dirtbag from the cut. always late. always self interested. gets into fights if someone looks at him the wrong way. mild klepto. the complete opposite of her. i mean the only reason they even interacted was because she worked as a hostess at the same club hotel he was a bus boy at. she was so sweet to him. non-judgmental. always asking him how he was when he passed by. always smiling. she was working her way into college and into whatever profession she would choose. what would she have with someone like him? no thoughts, just the idea of the golden girl falling in love with jj maybank. he was from the cut, like her, but he was different. he was wild. he was a ball of energy. always making people laugh. always surfing. always living as if it was his last day alive. he could make a crowd of people question their philosophies with one conversation. he was looked like a ray of sunshine. how could she not notice him? and her? she was some boring girl who had her head stuck in books, working or volunteering. she didn't have time to have fun or do something dangerous. she couldn't even see him at keggers because of how much she worked. she only saw him at work. sometimes she'd sneak a peek at him while he cleaned up tables. he was a hard worker. like her. but who was she kidding? what would he ever see in someone like her?

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

i love this

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄.

summary: even though jj refuses to admit his feelings for you— he doesn’t want anyone else to have you.

warnings: cursing

prompt: “why are you mad?” “i’m not mad , i just think you can choose better people to kiss.”

The dynamic between you and JJ was undoubtedly strange. You’d two hold hands , hug for longer than ‘friendly’ hugs usually went for , have sleepovers where you’d cuddle and kiss his cheek. It was like a relationship without the title and without the kissing and sappy lover girl esqe commitment.

But it started to get hurtful. To be the girl that was always there , the only girl that was ever there , and still be seen as nothing more than just a friend. God , how you absolutely hated using the word ‘friend.’

There was hookup after hookup , one after the other. JJ would tell you all about them , seeing nothing wrong in confiding his deepest thoughts with his ‘best friend.’ It was harmless in his mind. If you were too hook up with anyone , he’d want to hear about it. I mean— it’s not like there were guys lining up for you at the door. You were stagnant and clearly into JJ so most guys didn’t bother trying. So while JJ figured he’d be okay with hearing about it— it turned out to make him feel the complete opposite.

All four Pogue’s were sitting around the fire in John B’s backyard as you sat there bashfully , remembering your work shift earlier that morning.

It had started like any other day— the same old faces that come for the same old cup of coffee. Some were a bit less frequent and the tips were all in the same. Business wasn’t necessarily ‘booming’ but it was a moderately profitable day. Today had seemed like any other day— until it wasn’t.

A boy who was not much older than you were had walked in and you swore your heart stopped. There wasn’t many people you looked twice at , beings that you suffered with the cruelty of unrequited love. But this one had made you look twice. His hair was shaggy brown , stopping right above his eyebrows. His green eyes seemed kind , the minute he had mumbled ‘hello’ to you.

You were surprised he asked for your number. The banter between the two of you , and how charming he was seemed to brighten your morning just a bit— and since JJ hadn’t seemed to be confessing his undying love for you any time soon , it seemed to be the right time to try and put yourself out there.

“No way you actually gave some random guy your number.” JJ scoffed from the side of you. He wasn’t sure why hearing you talk about another guy that way made him feel so. . . mad. Sure he cared about you , but never really paid attention to what kind of care it was. He always chalked it up to knowing you his whole life , declaring you his bestfriend for life. But watching the way your eyes danced amongst the flame with a certain girlish glow , his heart beat faster than he had ever felt before.

You rolled your eyes. “Okay and? It’s not like you don’t give out your number at every boneyard party.” You defended yourself.

“She’s right.” Pope pointed at her.

“Yeah I think it’s sweet.” Kiara gushed , hyping it up more than it really was. She knew JJ had a crush on you— anyone with two eyes could see that. He was just too stupid to bother realizing it. “It’ll be like those movies where the girl falls for the guy from the coffee shop.” She placed a hand on her heart dramatically. “That’s like , super romantic.”

“I know!” You sighed dreamily. You had always been such a romantic. Reading , writing , watching it. Those silly little cliche book plots coming to life.

JJ rolled his eyes. “It’s not that romantic.”

“Why’re you being such a hater right now?” You asked JJ , crossing your arms over your chest annoyed. “You should be happy for me! Stuff like this never happens to me.”

JJ began to think back over the years before realizing that you were right. You were always with him or the other Pogue’s and when there were parties , he’d find some girl to mess around with somewhere before finding you so you two could go home together like you always had. He hadn’t remembered the last time you even talked about liking someone. His chest began to ache at that— feeling bad. Of course he wanted romantic stuff to happen for you so why did he feel so defensive about it? Sighing , he shook his head of the confusing feelings. “You’re right , I’m sorry. What was his name?”

He swallowed down whatever he thought he was feeling , doing what he did best ; ignoring the problem until it eventually went away. Because he couldn’t think of you like that. . . The two of you were just friends. You always had been— right?

John B and Pope shared a knowing look. You smiled obliviously and continued.

“Nate.”

“Nate?” John B asked with his face turning red.

“Yeah?”

“As in Nate Montero?” Pope pressed further.

JJ shifted in his seat uncomfortably , looking at you. “As in the guy who cut my hair in Kindergarten?!”

You covered your mouth as you gasped , remembering how much JJ had cried because some kid on the playground cut a chunk of his hair off. The name did seem familiar to you at the time but you hadn’t even remembered then. JJ’s face was scrunched up with disgust while the Pogue’s doubled over into laughter. How ironic.

“It was a long time ago!” You groaned.

“I don’t give a shit! That little bastard cut my hair. The hair I had been growing for years.” He threw his hands up in the air. “You can’t go out with him.” JJ said immediately with his nose turned in the air.

“Oh yes I can.”

JJ raised his eyebrows at you , taken aback by the seriousness in your voice. Something bubbled inside of him— something he couldn’t quite figure out. Whatever it was , though , he didn’t like it. “That’s like a betrayal!” He said after a few seconds.

“John B literally dates Sarah Cameron!” You pointed out , giving him a soft smile of apology when he shot you a look. “Sorry but it’s true.”

“She isn’t wrong.” Kiara chirped up.

“You’re literally friends now!” Scoffed John B.

“Yeah— now.” You pointed out. “But at first there was hella beef that was deeper than getting your hair snipped in Kindergarten.”

John B groaned. “Can we not bring me up into this? This is between you and JJ.”

“There’s nothing between me and JJ—” you ignored the way your stomach began to hurt at that. The words only fueling your desire to see the guy , Noah , from the coffee shop again. “I’m seeing him.”

“Y/N this conversation isn’t over!” JJ called after you once you picked up your beer can and started walking towards the house. You didn’t bother looking back , throwing him the middle finger as you disappeared behind the doors.

JJ’s eyes turned to slits and looked at the Pogue’s with an annoyed expression. “Can you believe her?”

“Believe what? That she finally finds a guy attractive other than you?” Kiara folded her arms across her chest. “If you aren’t going to be with her then let someone else who wants to be and be happy for her.”

JJ furrowed his eyebrows at Kiara. He glanced at Pope and John B before looking back at her. “Y/N/N does not find me attractive.” He waved her off.

“Oh please.” Pope muttered under his breath.

“I say we just let this play out.” John B stretched out with a yawn.

“This could end badly—” Pope pointed out.

“Or JJ will finally get his head out of his ass.” Kiara snorted.

JJ stood up in front the Pogue’s with an uneasy look. “I don’t know what you’re all talking about but the only way this ends badly is if Y/N decides to go ahead with that guy. He’s bad news.” He huffed , running back into the Chateau.

“He’s so jealous.” John B smirked while shaking his head.

“Very.”

It had been very tense between the two of you. You were so mad at him for thinking he had any right to tell you who you could or couldn’t date— especially after years of pining after him , and watching him go through girl after girl without so much as glancing your way. You weren’t going to keep hoping for someone to look at you anymore.

Nate had texted you to meet up and you did. It was a nice date , nothing too fancy or mind blowing. Just a simple date. One that ended in a small goodbye kiss on John B’s front porch— the place you normally stayed on on the weekends when your parents were out and about , barely thinking twice about you.

You were glimmering when you walked back in. You figured the Pogue’s would be in the backyard like they always were , so you breezed past the living room and into the kitchen for a glass of water. Your thoughts were everywhere because you did like Nate , and the kiss left you breathless— but it wasn’t like what you thought it would be. Though , none of the past kisses ever were. There was always something missing , making you rethink them.

“Oh so the traitor is back.” JJ strolled into the kitchen without looking at you , his tone hard.

This had been the first time in the past two days he bothered talking to you. You figured he was just pissy you decided to go out with Nate after all , despite the silly Kindergarten incident.

“Why are you mad?” You put down your water bottle and stepped in front of him so he couldn’t look away from you.

“I’m not mad. I just think you could choose better people to kiss.” JJ said. His fingers dancing towards the side of her face.

You felt your breath catch in your throat. Pulling your face away from his hand , you sighed. “If this is about what happened in fricking Kindergarten—”

JJ grabbed your face in his hands , your cheeks hollowing out between your teeth as he did so. You looked at him through fluttering eyelashes , your cheeks burning up. “This isn’t about what happened.” He murmured to you.

This whole conversation had him thinking. That feeling he was feeling— it wouldn’t go away. He had tossed and turned all night that night because his stomach was so sick thinking about you with someone else. He didn’t know why it never occurred to him that you’d eventually find someone else. He didn’t know why he wasted away all this time being with girls who didn’t mean anything. JJ wanted to kiss you. And to hold you like more than a friend. He didn’t want you with Nate— or with anyone. And he felt so bad about never realizing it , and always pushing away those feelings you’d make him feel because he was scared to lose you.

But he couldn’t lose you to someone else.

“I don’t want you to kiss Nate. . .” JJ breathed , inching closer to your face. Your eyes were wide with shock as you watched him , your heart beating crazily in your chest. He still held your face in her hands , watching your reaction to his words. He only hoped that you’d want to kiss him back.

“JJ—” you mumbled. “What’re you—”

“I want to kiss you.” JJ told you , swiping his thumb on your bottom lip. “Only if you’ll kiss me.”

Your heart began to race as you studied JJ’s face. The crush that you had buried inside of you for years was bursting in your chest , making friends with the butterflies in your stomach. Your mouth went dry as you looked at him. JJ left go of the hold he had on you to simply cup your cheek.

“JJ don’t be mean.” You whispered. “If you’re doing this just because I went out with Nate—”

“This isn’t because of Nate.” JJ cut you off. “Not completely , anyway. It was at the beginning but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. His hands on you.” His left hand slithered down to your waist , snaking around it. “Your lips on his.” His other hand pulled at your bottom lip again. “I got jealous.”

You stared at stunned. “Jealous?”

“I think I like you , Y/N.” JJ sighed to himself , looking at you sweetly. “And I think I’ve always known but I just ignored thinking it would go away.”

You swallowed thickly looking up at him. “Did it?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It didn’t.”

“Then. . .” you took a deep breath and stood taller , clearing your throat to sound more confident. “Then I think I want you to kiss me.”

With wild eyes , JJ was treading a line he wasn’t sure it was safe to cross. But the way his heart burned inside of his chest , his ears ringing and pulse getting faster— it would be worth whatever outcome if it meant he got to feel what it was like to kiss you. JJ got closer to you , so close that you felt his breath fan your face. “Do you think or do you know?”

Quietly you weighed your options in your head. There were so many things going through your mind , telling you a million different things. But the way you felt was telling you to kiss him. Finally. After all this time— you wanted to make him wait it out like you had for so long. But you couldn’t control yourself. “I know.” You took the initiative to connect your lips to his , tired of this waiting game. It was either now or never.

He kissed you back immediately. His hands finding home around your waist. His knees felt weak and your heart felt mushy. As your head tilted to the side , a sense of relief fell over you. This was it. This was why no other kiss had ever compared or felt like it mattered. Because it was JJ , it was always JJ.

He was your missing piece to it all.

JJ was the first to pull away , breathless. He felt crazed as he looked at you with eyes wild. Nothing had ever felt like this with him— no other girl could ever compare to you.

“Like I said. . . this ended badly!” Pope bursted out , practically falling out into the kitchen. Kiara and John B rolled their eyes at him.

“Finally!” Kiara groaned. “I was so sick of the sappy back and forth shit.”

“I for one , agree.”

You hid your face in your hands embarrassed while JJ smirked triumphantly. “I have a full head of hair and I got the girl.”

“I hate you.”

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

‘Silver Soul’- JJ Maybank Headcannons!!

• Even after a fight with him, he can’t ignore you for forever. He’ll send you text message about things you need to be reminded to do. Texts could vary from;

‘Do your homework, I know you didn’t do it.’ ‘Did you eat yet?’ ‘Go drink some water.’ ‘Plug your phone in and go to bed.’ ‘Take your medicine.’ ‘I love you.’

• Definitely has taken you on John B’s boat late at night just so you can see the stars or just to get a new look on life.

• He comes to you when he has had a problem with his dad. He’ll run into your arms and just cry and know that you’ll listen and never judge him.

• Every time it rains, he thinks of you. Not because it is sad, just because the rain is something that is just so, You.

• Helped you paint on your bathing suit/bikini bin when you saw the trend going around on TikTok. He thought it was dumb but wanted to help anyways. Now you have a very odd looking little turtle on your box.

[diaryofateenagegirlsthoughts]

tiktok inspo

jj maybank x pogue!reader

sexual innuendos

jj getting to the cheatau from doing god knows what with john b, who had already left again to pick up sarah, was the worst that could've happen to y/n's study session.

her bf was just wearing a t-shirt, grey sweatpants and his iconic red hat. "hi baby." he leaned down to place a few small kisses to her lips. "how's that going?"

her mind on the boy providing her of all that affection. "baby? earth to y/n/n?" he smirked.

"oh yeah good it's going good, I think I'm done for the day you know?" she placed the books on the living room table and pulled on his t-shirt to get him down on top of her.

"yeah? I thought you really had to study today." jj laid down exactly where she wanted him.

"nah way too much, want something else now." she wrapped her legs around his waist and placed her hands on his face before kissing him.

"I agree." he went to take his hat off but y/n stopped him nodding no. "knew this shit turned you on."

"shut up and get to work maybank." she smiled at him.

"yep ma'am."

and just before he could take her shirt off a shout from the door stopped him from doing so. "don't fuck on my couch!"

"god john b, why r you so annoying bro." jj dropped his head on her shoulder.

"sorry john b." y/n laugh before whispering to jj. "we have the house to ourselves tonight , they're going out."